Doki Doki Literature Club: A Chronicle of Happy Endings
by GoopyLeHeckingGrande
Summary: From childhood friends exploring beyond the boundaries of friendship, to first-time classmates establishing bonds closer than they would have first expected, to casual acquaintances traversing a deeper route hand in hand; as eight teens experience the ups and downs of everyday life together, they discover that there is always light at the end of the tunnel. (THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD)
1. Chapter 1 - An Enigmatic Encounter

**CHAPTER ONE**** – ****AN ENIGMATIC ENCOUNTER (YuKi)**

For Yuri, every turn of a page, every word that she took in silently, every second she spent reading _Laughing at the Shadows_, all of them allowed her to dive deeper and deeper into a world vastly different from the one she lived in. It was always a euphoric sensation for her, to be swept away in a quiet adventure through the streets of Brookdale, an adventure that worked the mind and riled the emotions with every paragraph and chapter. In no time at all, Yuri became deaf, blind and mute to all the facets of the real world as she walked and spoke and thought with the characters in her book. There was Hugo, fearless and selfless in his bid to defend his family; Cassandra, wise and cryptic in her knowledge of the world around her; and of course, young Natasha, tempered in a turbulent world like iron being smelted in a crucible.

The plot was full of turmoil and even despair. Natasha was a young girl who was born with a gift, something that enabled her to somehow see into the future for a random amount of time while she was dreaming. Such dreams—or visions, as Yuri had read—were so vivid and harrowing that Natasha could not hold back from sharing them with her friends as well as Hugo and Cassandra, her parents. Things soon take a turn for the worse when a number of her visions begin manifesting into reality in the form of tragedy and death. Soon, Natasha begins dreading her sleeping hours, opting instead to stay awake for as long as she could without telling anyone, but this is where the shadows came in, shadows that seemed all too real within both the confines of her room and her mind. Before, the shadows only took on simpler forms, like mirages in the desert, but the longer Natasha denies herself the chance of sleeping to stave off any future tragedies, the stronger and more sinister they become. The question that remained was whether Natasha would use the experiences and her power to find a way out of her predicament, or if she would succumb to insanity and be doomed to forever laugh at the shadows around her—hence the book's title.

Yuri's heart was hit with a sense of longing. She wanted to converse with Cassandra for hours on end about the ills and makings of the world. She desired to hear Hugo's inspirational talk in person whenever life seemed to throttle her. Most of all, she positively craved the chance to be able to walk in Natasha's shoes, to experience the world of the book from her perspective instead of being her unseen companion and an audience to her ordeals, which would undoubtedly be a welcome change from the dreariness and pains of real life even with all of Natasha's trials and tribulations—with Natasha, at least, there were choices to be made and paths to be taken. In the real world, it seemed more mundane, more inert. She knew that other people might chide her for thinking that such a torturous existence was better than living normally, but there simply were aspects about Natasha's experiences that Yuri wanted to cling on to.

The more she read, the more Yuri could sense that things wouldn't end well for the trio of protagonists that the story had, and yet that was what spurred her to keep reading and finish the book. She had become drawn towards Hugo, Cassandra and Natasha for too long that it felt like a betrayal to them if she stopped or slowed down. Sometimes, she would read with bated breath, and there were even moments when a chapter would end and she would be left staring at the pages blankly, digesting every little detail she had just seen, imagining what it would be like to actually _live _in that moment, feeling what the characters felt, see what they saw, and hear what they heard. Indeed, it helped keep a lot of her personal shadows at bay.

And yet, she could only sigh and read and watch everything unfold. A small pang of sadness coursed through Yuri as she stroked her left forearm.

The bell rang, heralding the last thirty minutes of the morning and signaling the students across the school grounds to prepare for their first class and the first day of the academic year. Almost immediately, Brookdale vanished around her, and Yuri was soon thrown back to the school library, sitting alone on one of the private study booths. Marking off where she had been interrupted with a bookmark, she quietly slung her schoolbag around her shoulder, held the book against her chest, and made her way timidly to the 3-C classroom to continue reading there. Though she could continue reading in the library if she wished, Yuri wanted to get to the classroom early so that she can choose a good seat—one that would be far away from the front of the class before her classmates could deny her that chance.

Students passed by without even glancing at her. To them, Yuri sensed that she must be like a ghost, drifting in and out of reality inside her mind and invisible most of the time, with the only differences being that she could at least speak and do whatever human beings can do. That was in the real world, though; in the world of literature, she really was a ghost, unseen by the characters, a helpless observer who could only watch as things took place, desiring to just fall into a book's pages and be reborn in its universe for a while only to be pulled out forcibly from it once she was done reading.

Yuri sighed. It wasn't that she didn't like the real world that she lived in; it was more of the fact that in reading and understanding the characters and setting of a book such as _Laughing at the Shadows_, she felt understood and even appreciated in return as she saw imaginary people having the same thoughts, emotions and sentiments that she did. That was in stark contrast with what she had experienced by far in real life, where her every move, mannerism and thought could be judged. In her books, she felt tangible, real, and secure. In her books, she felt that she could become anyone and converse with anyone without the worry of experiencing pain, judgment or rejection. As she walked, she glanced at her reflection in the windows of the school's hallway, smiling sadly as she saw how somber she looked and how fragmented she felt.

Everything was suddenly interrupted, however, as Yuri collided with someone. She was immediately startled out of her reverie, and her bag's strap almost slipped off her shoulder from the impact. A couple of notebooks fell to the floor, along with Yuri's copy of _Laughing at the Shadows_, and some pieces of paper flew as well. Brushing her bangs away from her face, Yuri steadied her balance and quickly looked around to see who she had bumped into.

A boy she had never met before stood in front of her—or perhaps she did see him in the past, but then again, she never truly remembered a lot of her fellow students. He was tall as she was, with short black hair, a round face, and cool grey eyes. He was clutching a black leather backpack that had its flap open, and a pair of eyeglasses lay askew atop his nose. He quickly straightened them with his free hand and glanced directly at Yuri. Immediately, Yuri began blushing—both at the fact that she had bumped into someone and the fact that somehow, the boy practically took her breath away.

"I'm sorry, I'm really s-sorry!" she cried out, bowing in apology.

"It's okay, I wasn't l-looking where I was going as well," the boy replied with a nervous laugh. "I was checking out a few things in my backpack and, well . . ."

With that, he bent down and began picking up his fallen notebooks and papers. Self-conscious now, Yuri knelt down and began helping him pick everything up. She could feel her face's temperature hiking up the longer she remained in the hallway, and her mortification grew as she imagined what the boy was thinking right now. _Is he angry? Is he annoyed at me? Oh, why did this have to happen? _Though the boy didn't look irritated, Yuri's mind began filling up with all types of hurtful words that he could be shouting towards her.

When the two of them were finished gathering up everything that had fallen, Yuri straightened up and held out the papers she had helped pick up with trembling hands. "Here y-you go. . ." she whispered, expecting a tirade of sorts.

"Thank you," said the boy. In sharp contrast to what she was expecting, he gave her a kind smile that made her want to melt into nothingness. He reached out and took the papers from her, carefully placing them atop his backpack. "And I believe _this _is yours?" he added.

Yuri looked up slightly and saw that he was holding out her book towards her with his free hand. She quickly took it back and clutched it tightly against her chest. "Thank y-you," she stammered.

Not knowing what else she could say, and dreading the idea of standing awkwardly in the hallway and in front of such a boy in silence, Yuri bowed her head and cried out, "I'm really s-sorry!" With that, she bolted down the corridor, her breath rising rapidly with each step.

The 3-C classroom already had quite a few students inside, but none of them paid much attention as she dashed inside. She immediately made her way to the farthest corner of the classroom and sat down on the chair there, panting as she stroked her left forearm. She had never felt so giddy before, and though her embarrassment at what had happened in the hallway was still there, she also felt energized. She reflected on the boy's looks, and she suddenly found herself replaying in her mind's eye the way he had smiled at her. Yuri bit her lip and shook her head as if to ward off such thoughts, and she silently reprimanded herself for having them.

At the moment, the only solace that Yuri could go to was in the form of _Laughing at the Shadows_. Indeed, the feel of the book's leather-bound cover against her hands allowed her to regain her composure even further. She glanced up at the classroom's wall clock and saw that there were still around ten more minutes before classes would start. Musing that a few extra paragraphs to both advance her reading progress and soothe her nerves wouldn't hurt, Yuri sighed deeply and opened up _Laughing at the Shadows_. Within a few seconds, she would be back to being a ghost as Brookdale beckoned once more before her. _Yes, that would be good._

Only a minute had passed, however, before a familiar voice startled Yuri for the second time that morning. "Hello!"

Yuri looked up and felt faint. The same boy that she had bumped into earlier was standing next to her chair. Her hands slackened, and Brookdale was suddenly forgotten. Wild thoughts ran rampant in Yuri's mind as she fumbled at any reason as to why he was here in front of her; the harshest of them told her that he had come back to tell her off for bumping into him.

The boy spoke brightly, "I didn't expect that you'd be one of my classmates."

"I . . . U-Um . . ." Yuri stammered as she slowly closed her book. She could feel her face turning scarlet. "Y-You're in 3-C as w-well . . . ?"

"Yep!" The boy laughed nervously, sending Yuri's heart fluttering. "I was going to get a few things from my locker when I, ah . . . when I ran into you in the corridor. Anyway, my name's Naoki. Naoki Nakajima!"

He held out his hand. Not used to such a gesture, Yuri reached out gingerly, shook his hand briefly, and let go like it was scalding hot. "Yu . . . Yuri! I mean, my name's Y-Yuri Hoshino," she stuttered.

"A pleasure to meet you, Yuri," said Naoki, grinning. "Anyway, um, do you mind if I sit right here? I usually sit at the back with one of my buddies and, well . . . I mean, if it's not too much to ask, of course!"

"Ah, n-no, I don't mind!" Yuri squeezed her hand so hard that her fingers began hurting. "T-That is, um . . . Well, is it alright if I s-sit here?"

"Of course!" said Naoki. "I just hope that my friend and I won't bother you that much. He does tend to be a bit talkative sometimes," he added with a small laugh.

"No, it's okay!" said Yuri. Her breathing began to rise. "I was j-just afraid that I might, um . . . disturb you t-two or s-something."

"Ah, well, that's okay," Naoki remarked reassuringly as he sat down. "And, um . . . I couldn't help but notice that you were reading when I arrived. I'm sorry if I d-disturbed you or anything."

"Not at all!" said Yuri again. "I w-was just finishing a few p-pages. . ."

With that, Yuri took her book off her chair's armrest and made to stow it away in her bag. Naoki remarked, "So you're reading _Laughing at the Shadows _as well?"

Yuri's heart skipped a beat. "Y-Yes," she replied, looking at Naoki. "Why?"

"It's one of my favorite books," said Naoki. "I read that last year, and sometimes I just keep coming back to it. I was rather surprised when I saw that it was the book you dropped earlier. I would've asked you about it, but, well . . . you took off."

"Ah, I'm really s-sorry for that!" Yuri cried out. "Oh, why did I have to run off like that? I'm really, really sorry!"

"No, no, I understand, it's fine!" Naoki waved his hands. "I was just surprised because, well, sometimes I feel that I'm the only one who's managed to read a certain book, you know?"

"Oh, is that s-so?" Yuri tried looking at Naoki directly, but her eyes seemed to move downward of their own accord. "Well, t-that's how I f-feel most of the time, too!"

And then, as if she had just blurted out an obscene word, Yuri quickly covered her hand with her mouth. "That w-was embarrassing of me. . ." she stammered.

"Er, t-there's nothing embarrassing about what you said, Yuri," said Naoki with a tentative chuckle.

_He said my name again_. Yuri felt faint, but she tightened her resolve and exhaled to ease her nervousness. "I'm s-sorry," she said. "I'm really n-not used to talking to someone like t-this. . . You see, I, um . . . I usually do things alone, like I've always done f-for a long time now."

"Oh, I see," said Naoki earnestly. "Are you, um . . . are you sure I didn't disturb you?"

"No, y-you didn't." Yuri laughed a little. "It just takes some g-getting used to for me, I guess. . ."

"I understand." Naoki glanced at her book. "Do you mind if I ask which part you're on in _Shadows_?"

"Ah, not at all. I'm almost at the end, actually," Yuri replied. "More specifically, the part where Natasha ran away from home."

"I see. When did you start reading _Shadows_?"

"L-Last Friday."

Naoki's eyes widened a little behind his eyeglasses. "Wow, you're a pretty fast reader!" he cried out. "That took me around two or three weeks to finish!"

Yuri blushed and began playing with her hair. "It's okay," she remarked. And then, as if of her own accord, she perked up a little. "I just like r-reading quickly sometimes so that I can s-start analyzing what's behind the words and meanings I've just read by writing down notes and ideas. It kind of works that w-way for me with long novels as well."

"Wait, so you read novels this quickly and still manage to analyze and dwell on what you've read at the same time?" asked Naoki in amazement. "That's . . . that's something."

"Ah, w-well. . . Um. . ." Yuri tugged at her hair more nervously, twirling a few strands around her fingers. The drive to keep talking seemed to die down within her.

"Not that that's a bad thing, of course!" Naoki quickly added. "It's actually pretty amazing."

_Did he call me amazing? _Yuri felt that she was turning pale, her tongue positively in knots now. Before she could reply, however, someone called out to Naoki.

"Dammit, Naoki, and here I thought I arrived earlier than you or Daisuke for once!" Both Yuri and Naoki looked up from where they were sitting, and Naoki grinned. The speaker was a tall, fit boy with spiky, gelled red hair whom Yuri could not remember. Almost immediately, she realized what Naoki meant by having a talkative seatmate as the boy sat down on the chair to Naoki's right and began speaking.

"Monday, Monday, _Monday_," he said vehemently, treating the word like a curse. "Really swell day to look forward to. If Kanae didn't wake me up, I would've forgotten that school's starting today, you know? Well, at least I saw Monika in the corridor on the way here."

"You're here earlier than I'd expect you to be, Kenta," said Naoki, grinning. "But yeah, Daisuke arrived around the same time I did. Not that he wanted to go off to class already. He'd hang around here if he could."

The boy, whose name was apparently Kenta, let out a bark of laughter. "Poor sap. All alone in another class again. He's gonna die of boredom in 3-D, I'm calling it now. I know I did in freshman year. Remember that?"

"Well, if you died of boredom then, it's a mystery you're still here, alive and kicking," said Naoki drolly. "And besides, you had Monika as your classmate then, right? So it wasn't all that bad."

"Ah, uh, well . . . I guess you're right about that," Kenta mumbled.

Yuri, who saw no other reason to keep conversing with Naoki now that he was talking to someone else, reopened _Laughing at the Shadows _and quickly sought out the part where she was. Before she could find it, however, she heard Naoki speak again, prompting her to almost slam the book shut as she looked up, not wanting to be rude.

"Ah, that reminds me, Kenta. I want to introduce you to a new classmate—well, not exactly new, but she's a schoolmate that we've never had in class before. Yuri?"

Yuri could almost hear her heart beating out loud. She looked at Naoki. "Y-Yes?" she asked anxiously.

"This here's one of my buddies that I was talking about," said Naoki. "His name's Kenta Yamaguchi. Kenta, this is Yuri Hoshino."

"Pleasedtameetcha!" said Kenta, saluting with a flourish.

"A p-pleasure to meet you, too," Yuri said politely. Being introduced to other people was always a torturous experience, particularly because she never knew how to reply or act. Almost immediately, she looked away and back at her book, but she found that she could not concentrate, not with Naoki speaking once more.

"So, Yuri, what section were you in the past years?" he asked. "I mean, it's pretty remarkable that during our first two years in high school, we never got the chance to be classmates."

"W-Well, I was in, um . . ." Try as she might, however, Yuri could not think straight with Naoki looking at her directly. The only memory she could bring up at the moment was her class section last year. "I was in 2-B last year. . ."

"2-B? Why, that's the same as Daisuke's section then," said Naoki. "I guess you're probably familiar with him, then? Daisuke Matsuda? He's this blonde-haired guy, the one who likes sketching a lot. I'm pretty sure that you can catch him doodling in a sketch pad in between classes."

"Yeah, big anime and manga fanatic, too," said Kenta. "Likes drawing cute anime girls and maybe even a bit of hen—"

"He likes anime and drawing," Naoki interrupted with a pointed look at Kenta.

"Um . . . I guess so. . ." To be honest, just like with Kenta, Yuri only vaguely remembered who this Daisuke Matsuda was. The same goes for nearly every single one of the classmates she had in the past, and those she did remember brought back some rather embarrassing memories. The only focus of her mind right now, however, was Naoki. "I d-don't really remember a lot of the people that I m-meet. . ." she added.

"Ah, that's fine," Kenta remarked. "Anyway, Naoki here's pretty much the opposite of Daisuke. He likes reading more formal stuff like novels and stories, things like that. He's _real _serious about them."

Naoki shrugged. "Daisuke's a serious reader as well when it comes to manga, so don't take that away from him, Kenta. Anyway, yeah, novels are my forte and favorite. The creative stuff, if you would. Actually, I think that's what Yuri here likes as well, right, Yuri?"

Yuri smiled nervously. "In a way, y-yes. . ." she replied. With another sigh, she straightened up a little, focused her thoughts about reading, and started speaking more fluidly. "I absolutely adore novels that build deep and complex fantasy worlds. The thought process and work that goes behind their craftsmanship, the way the twists and turns can just pull you in and give you an incredibly meaningful experience, the way that a writer can take advantage of someone's lack of imagination and throw them for a loop. . . If a story really makes me think, or if it completely spirits me away into another world, then I don't think I'll be able to put it down.

"Romances with complex plot webs, fantasy stories and epics with numerous multifaceted characters, seemingly ordinary accounts that are grounded in everyday life but come with a dash of intricacy that makes their stories meaningful . . . all of these are the types of literary works that I truly enjoy, and sometimes I just end up getting so immersed in them that I often don't want to be free of them. . . This is one of the fantastic perks of literature, just like what I've been experiencing in _Laughing at the Shadows_. I'm certain that if others took the time to read and appreciate everything behind such a work, they would be able to perceive what I mean and not simply dismiss it as an ordinary work, but instead treat it as the brainchild of an individual whose heart and soul is poured into its pages."

A short silence fell. In her focused litany on reading, Yuri was unaware that she had droned on with her eyes closed. Her ideas, transformed into words, gave her a feeling of self-confidence that temporarily blotted out any nervousness or anxiety she was feeling before. The silence made her conscious once again, however, and her eyes snapped back open to see Naoki and Kenta looking at her directly. There was a look of amazement in Naoki's eyes, while Kenta's mouth was hanging slightly open. Just like that, the anxiety in her came back, this time mixed with embarrassment.

"Did I just . . . j-just . . . ?" she stammered. Her face grew hot, and her hands began trembling a little again. By instinct, she began caressing her left forearm.

Kenta closed his mouth. "Well, that was, um. . ."

Naoki, on the other hand, spoke up quietly. ". . . That's an exceptional way to put it."

"E-E-Exceptional . . . ?" Yuri looked at Naoki.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Naoki quickly rallied. "I just meant that . . . well, hearing how much passion you have for reading is really something. And I agree. I wholeheartedly agree with that."

"Y-You do?" Yuri murmured.

"Yes! That's basically the fantastic experience that reading has to offer, isn't it?" Naoki continued. "Fantasy, horror, romance. . . Everything is just worth the experience when you know it's well-written and well-formed, and the credit to that falls on the writer. I mean, I know I got hooked for weeks and weeks just reading _Without Honor _and _Twilight of the Ancients_."

"Ooh, y-you've also read _Without Honor_?" asked Yuri. Her nervousness stopped for a moment. "Um, as far as fantasy epics go, I liked that one for its postmodern touch. I personally t-think it's in the same vein as this other work I've read, _Intrepid Vagabonds_."

"Oh, how could I forget _Vagabonds_?" said Naoki. "Yes, that was written with a bit of postmodernism as a theme, but you can only analyze it that way once you've finished reading the entire book. It even touches on surrealism at times, especially when the characters were trapped in the Ephemeral Planes, remember that?"

"Yes, yes!" replied Yuri. "And it's just an exceptional experience when you try to analyze the things that they had seen there, or the effects it had on them in the long run."

"Okay, I think this is the part where I can't relate anymore," Kenta interjected. "You two have fun talking, alright?"

"Ah, c'mon, Kenta, we're just sharing a bit," Naoki remarked with a laugh.

"I know, I know," said Kenta, waving his hand airily.

Naoki turned back to her. "Anyway, what are the other books you've read, Yuri?"

"Um . . . Well, so far I've been reading more horror novels," Yuri replied shyly. "Psychological horror, mostly. Are y-you familiar with _Blinded by Faith _and _The Interloper_?"

"I'm afraid not," said Naoki. "So far, the only horror novels I've managed to read are the first three books of the _Hallowed_ series, and then there's _Dreams from Dystopium_, plus _Laughing at the Shadows_, of course."

"Ooh, so you've also read _Hallowed_?" asked Yuri. Her voice was starting to become steadier, more poised. "That's a really interesting series. I like its mixed take on the modern and olden ages and how the plot tends to interweave both together with the conflict and the characters. I enjoyed reading that immensely. It's . . . It's very much like the way reading just bridges the gap between fiction and reality sometimes, don't you agree?"

"Yes! And the way the symbolism is hidden in the chapters, you'd really take the time to go back and make sure you didn't miss anything," said Naoki excitedly. "There are times when I'd read the books all over again and I'd just be caught off guard because I'll find this little detail that I overlooked during the first time I read the series. It's really astonishing."

"I agree!" The sensation of enjoyment in Yuri's system at their discussion made her feel exhilarated. "And how about the open-endedness of the novels sometimes? In my opinion, a novel does not have to be too literal or direct in order to be effective most of the time. Sometimes, it's better if the story just ends on a certain note and then leaves the task of deciphering whatever its meaning or resolution was to the reader. It allows your imagination to fly, and it leaves your emotions longing for some closure that only you can find."

Naoki nodded. "It adds more to the mystery of everything, just like with life, right?"

Yuri became breathless again. "Yes, e-exactly. . ." she said almost dreamily.

At that exact moment, the bell rang. The volume of noise in the classroom rose to a crescendo as students quickly began running inside and sitting down. In the school hallways and corridors, the same could be said as students ran past, desperate not to be late on the first day of school. Next to Naoki, Kenta let out an audible groan. "Here we go, ladies and gentlemen!" he cried out right before their first professor for the year entered their classroom.

Yuri stared at Naoki, and he stared back. The enthusiasm between them as they talked still lingered, its afterglow causing them to grow speechless as the class settled down around them. Yuri's breath came in silent pants, as if she had been running, and her heart was beating so forcefully against her chest. Her eyes just rested for a long while on Naoki, taking in his handsome face, his grey eyes, his short black hair, and his eyeglasses. She smiled with bated breath at him, not knowing what else to do or say, and for a moment she began to wonder whether he found their entire opening conversation weird or her smile awkward.

To her immense relief, Naoki grinned back at her. Yuri wouldn't have cared if she fainted at that moment on the spot, but thankfully she didn't.

"Well, I look forward to talking to you a lot more from now on, Yuri," he said affably before he sat a bit straighter in his seat and faced forward.

The afterglow subsided slowly, leaving Yuri blushing and unable to reply as their professor began speaking. Her confidence and excitement ebbed away a little as well, though it left her happy instead of dejected. Hastily, as if to ward off the giddy sensations that were creeping up her heart and mind, she picked up her book from her armrest, stowed it away in her bag, and faced forward as well. Even as she did so, she could not suppress her smile even if her life depended on it. She caressed her left forearm once more, remembering the years she had felt so fragmented and almost transparent, a ghost drifting in and out of reality.

She exhaled. If she was a ghost, then it was a wonder that she felt so . . . _real _right now.


	2. Chapter 2 - First Day Flutter

**CHAPTER TWO**** – ****FIRST DAY FLUTTER (NatSuke)**

Daisuke looked around the classroom, wondering what was in store for the first day of school. He was slightly resentful that he had to be separated from his friends for the second year in a row. Kenta and Naoki were in 3-C, while he was stuck all alone in 3-D just like he had been stuck in 2-B the year before. Though he had a few other familiar faces in 3-D with him, like Tatsuo, Mika and Yusuke, it wasn't the same without his best friends. He stared out of one of the classroom's windows and heaved an exasperated sigh.

The clock seemed to tick by ever so slowly, as it always did on a Monday. Daisuke grumbled further at the thought that he had arrived too early in class—more than half an hour early, to be exact; half of the class hasn't even arrived yet, and though Naoki had arrived around the same time he did, he was in his classroom already while Kenta wasn't even at school yet, so he had no one else to go to at the moment conveniently. To pass the time, Daisuke decided to just take out his sketch pad and continue the drawing he had been working on last night—fan art of a certain visual novel game called _Space Tales_.

As he stared at the image on his sketch pad, Daisuke mused that he was at least getting better again at drawing. He had put off drawing for three months, and a few nights ago, when he started sketching again, the feel of a pencil in his hand seemed alien to him. Nevertheless, he had dug deep and practiced once more, determined to once again showcase his art online to his friends even as he tore off page after page of failed sketches. In complete silence, he took up his mechanical pencil and sketched away. It didn't take long before everything around him seemed to vanish, as it always did whenever he was focused on drawing.

He was close to finishing his sketch when he broke off from his drawing trance to check the time. The classroom's wall clock showed ten minutes before 9 A.M., indicating that the bell would soon ring to start off their first class. Daisuke decided to put a few more details into his sketch before putting it away. As he reached down the side of his chair for his backpack to grab one of his HB pencils, he glanced sideways and saw something that caught his eye.

A manga book was sitting atop the armrest of the chair next to his, along with a pink backpack. Daisuke mused that perhaps someone had chosen the seat next to him while he had been busy drawing. Being a fan of manga and anime in general, Daisuke glanced at the book curiously. Among all the manga issues he had seen, this particular book seemed unfamiliar to him, which was surprising considering how many manga series he knew from browsing a lot online. He set down his sketch pad on his chair's armrest and looked around, wondering who it belonged to. When no one seemed to approach the chair or anything, Daisuke picked up the book and took a curious look at its cover.

_Parfait Girls._ Daisuke frowned thoughtfully. As he had surmised, he had never seen this manga before. The cover and title seemed blunt enough, though; there was an overabundance of hearts and various shades of pink, with four girls in colorful attire striking animated feminine poses as they held trays laden with cupcakes and cookies. _Typically shoujo,_ he mused.

"Hey!"

A girl's high-pitched voice startled Daisuke. For a moment, he wondered whether the manga had come to life and was suddenly speaking. He looked wildly around and saw exactly who it was that had called out to him: a girl with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. She was short, with a petite frame that gave her a very young appearance. Her most glaring feature was her short bright pink hair, which was tied in small twin tails with thin red ribbons, and a red bow-shaped clip that adorned her bangs. Her eyes were almost as starkly pink as her hair, and while that was remarkable in itself, the way they were glaring at Daisuke made him feel slightly intimidated.

"What are you doing with my manga?" the girl asked crossly.

"_Your _manga?" Daisuke asked absently.

The girl let out an angry sigh and snatched the book away from Daisuke's hands. Daisuke was startled once again, this time by the girl's very direct approach. "You don't go touching what's not yours, alright?" she said irritably. "Just because it's there on the chair doesn't mean you get to take it!"

Taken aback by this, Daisuke frowned. "H-Hey, I wasn't gonna take it, alright?" he retorted. "I was just taking a look at it!"

With a huff, the girl picked up her backpack—which was almost as pink as her hair—and stowed the book away quickly. "Well, d-don't, okay?" she hissed. Daisuke saw that she was starting to blush for some reason. "Jeez, I just leave my chair for five seconds and someone's already snooping around my stuff. . ."

"_I wasn't snooping_," Daisuke replied patiently. "I'm sorry, okay? B-Besides, are you . . . are y-you . . . ?"

"Am I _what_?" The girl narrowed her pink eyes dangerously.

"Are you . . . er, in 3-D as well?" Daisuke had asked such a question based on two factors: again, he had never seen the girl anywhere before, and her small size made him instinctively assume that she was from a lower year.

The girl's eyes widened. "Of c-course I'm in 3-D!" she sputtered furiously. "Why the heck would I be in this classroom if I wasn't, huh, idiot?!"

_Holy heck, she's feisty_. "Alright, alright," Daisuke replied calmly. "In all honesty, I don't think I've ever seen you before in the other classes. That's why . . . well, that's why I had to ask, basically. I'm, um . . . I'm really sorry if I offended you or anything."

He privately wondered why he was even apologizing for such a trivial and honest mistake on his part. Others would have simply snapped back at the girl's attitude with even more vitriol, but then again, that's not what he was about. A few of their classmates were starting to glance at them, and he guessed that their looks were somehow contributing to the girl's ire, so he decided to defuse the situation before it escalated any further.

Thankfully, the girl's expression softened a little, though she was still frowning—and blushing, for that matter. "Well, it's alright," she remarked. "I haven't seen you before, either."

"I guess it's our first time being classmates, then?" Daisuke guessed.

"Yeah, I guess. . ."

With that, the girl moved next to her chair. She looked once more at Daisuke. "I'm sitting here, if you don't mind," she stated.

"It's fine," said Daisuke. Their classes were not that strict when it came to seating arrangements, and any seat a student picked for the first day of school would likely be their seat for the rest of the year. _It's not like me saying otherwise will force her to go someplace else_.

He looked at the girl curiously. "Would you be able to see up front from back here, though?"

The girl narrowed her eyes once more. "If you don't want me to sit here, then—"

"Ah, no!" said Daisuke quickly. "It's really alright with me. I mean, no one's picked that seat yet, so it's fine. It's just that . . . well, you're a bit, ah . . ."

For a moment, he couldn't bring himself to speak the word "short," not while facing someone with such a temper. The girl, however, seemed to have guessed his thoughts on her own, and she snapped once more. "I know I'm short, but I can see from way back here perfectly fine!"

"Okay, okay!" Daisuke cried out. "The seat's all yours!"

With that, the girl sat down in a huff, placing her backpack on her right side—and a good distance away from him. Daisuke sighed. If this girl was going to be his seatmate for the rest of the year, it would be a very long school year indeed. To ease his mind about things, he decided to get on with his sketch before time was up. He had not gone too far into continuing when the girl spoke up again—this time, with an awed tone.

"Y-You drew that?"

Daisuke looked up and saw that she was leaning towards his chair and peering interestedly at his drawing. She no longer looked angry, and the flush had receded from her cheeks. Surprised, Daisuke only managed to reply, "Um . . . Yes."

The girl opened her mouth again, as if to continue speaking, but instead she decided to simply sit back down in silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Daisuke noticed her sneaking side glances at his drawing every once in a while.

Daisuke decided to break the ice a little. "The reason I took a look at your manga was . . . well, I read manga, too."

The girl suddenly shifted gears. "You do?"

Daisuke looked at her and saw that her eyes seemed to have lit up. Instead of a sour expression, she looked positively surprised. "Well, yeah," he replied. "I mean, it's why I draw fan art like this, you know?"

"What manga is that from?" the girl asked.

"Oh, it's not from a manga," replied Daisuke. "It's from the _Space Tales _VN. Are you familiar with that?"

The girl frowned, thinking. "Not really . . . I don't play VN's that much."

Daisuke shrugged. "That's alright. Anyway, yeah, this is just fan art from that, though I also draw fan art based on my favorite manga and anime."

With a nod, the girl looked away again, and silence fell. After a few moments of this, Daisuke spoke up to break it. "Er . . . I just realized that, um . . . if we're going to be both classmates and seatmates, I should at least know your name."

The girl suddenly looked startled, as if she had just been asked a really private question. She huffed, looking away from Daisuke's drawing and pouting her lips a little. "I'm N-Natsuki Fujisawa," she mumbled.

Daisuke smiled. "Well, nice to meet you, Natsuki. I'm Daisuke Matsuda."

Natsuki merely cast another sideway glance at Daisuke as she nodded back. "N-Nice to meet you, too, I guess . . ."

* * *

Lunchtime came as a sort of relief for Daisuke after four periods of first-day boredom. As he carried his tray of food through the noisy aisles of the school cafeteria, he scouted the table where he and his best buddies usually sat. It didn't take long for him to find them, as they were practically standing up and waving their arms to signal him of their location.

Kenta looked pretty much the same, his hair spiked up with hair gel and his uniform's jacket unbuttoned as always in his own sense of non-conformity; Naoki was a bit more refined-looking than Kenta, with his eyeglasses and his uniform in its proper shape and form. In the most obvious and stereotypical of ways, their looks described their attitude; Kenta was the brash and crass type, quick to anger and quick to joke about anything, while Naoki was the silent and smart one, well-versed in academics and more cultured in his dealings and conversations with anyone.

"All I wanna know right now is who rigged the class lists," Daisuke stated as he sat down with them. "I mean, really? I get carted off to another class during junior year while you two stay in the same class?"

Kenta laughed. "Can you feel it? The thought of dying from boredom, Daisuke?"

"Tell me about it," said Daisuke as he poked the salmon on his tray with his fork. "Also, freaking Math as the first period? On a _Monday_?"

"Ah, I wouldn't worry too much about it," said Naoki reassuringly as he stirred his bowl of miso soup. "Besides, I think it's better if Math came first rather than last. 3-A and 3-C are the only classes that have Math for their final period for at least one day of the week, based from what I saw of our schedules."

"Dammit, you shouldn't ruin our school year with bad news like that before it even starts, Naoki," Kenta groaned. "Math for a _last _class? They really wanna torture us, eh?"

"Hah! At least the universe is bringing balance to my misfortunes," Daisuke cried out, brandishing his plastic fork triumphantly in the air. "Feel my pain!"

"Ah, shut your trap, Daisuke," Kenta mumbled through a mouthful of rice and salmon. "You're still gonna be forever alone in 3-D."

"Why don't you go make some new friends, Daisuke?" asked Naoki. "And I think you're in the same class with Tatsuo and Yusuke, right? It can't be that bad."

"Yeah, you should really take a leaf out of Naoki's book!" Kenta interjected with a laugh. "He's already made a new friend earlier! What was her name again, Naoki?"

Naoki sighed. "Her name's Yuri Hoshino," he replied.

"Wait, I think I know her!" said Daisuke. "I think she's that . . . tall girl, right? The quiet one with the, um . . . long violet hair? Or was it purple? Anyway, I think she was my classmate last year."

"Yep, that's her," said Naoki. "She's my seatmate."

"And soon-to-be-girlfriend," Kenta joked. "You should've seen how the two of them were talking earlier before class. It was like I wasn't even there! I kept asking myself, 'Why, Naoki? Why are you ignoring your best friend all of a sudden for a girl?'"

Naoki sighed again. Daisuke frowned a little, thinking. "Don't really know much about her, though," he remarked. "I never really interacted with her that much. She's really . . . quiet."

As he spoke, the familiar sight of short pink hair passing by caught his eye. Daisuke looked sideways and saw Natsuki walk by the tables quietly, carrying a small paper bag instead of a lunch tray. She was frowning again, though Daisuke sensed that she was doing so because she was looking for a place to sit.

"That reminds me, I also met someone new today," said Daisuke. He lowered his voice a little. "She's over there, the pink-haired girl."

He nodded with his head towards Natsuki's direction. Kenta and Naoki turned around to look.

Kenta snickered. "Didn't know you were fond of petites, Daisuke!"

"Real mature, Kenta," said Daisuke bluntly. "Her name is Natsuki Fujisawa, and we kinda met . . . er, accidentally." With that, he narrated his first encounter with Natsuki, putting into detail his piqued interest at her manga, her direct and almost-hostile reactions, and how quickly they changed when she began watching him draw. With every word he uttered, Naoki seemed to look more engrossed, while Kenta's smile slowly turned into a chuckle, and then into an outright burst of laughter.

"Damn, Daisuke, you really do know how to leave a good first impression!" he said, clapping Daisuke's shoulder. Daisuke glowered at him.

"Well, I don't think I know who she is," said Naoki, straightening his glasses. "But she appears to be, ah . . . quite a girl."

"Tell me about it." Daisuke let out a sigh. "It's not every day that a person practically screams and yells at you the first time you two meet."

As he said so, he glanced around to see where Natsuki had gone. Apart from watching him sketch with interest bordering on awe, Natsuki had kept quiet for the first half of the day. She didn't even cast another glance at Daisuke as classes wore on, nor did she turn to talk to him or anyone else in between classes. Instead, she merely sat in her chair and scribbled on one of her notebooks.

"Ooh, scouting for her now, eh, Daisuke?" said Kenta.

"Kenta, I swear, if you don't stop talking about it like that, I'll—"

"Hi, guys!"

Daisuke, Kenta and Naoki all looked up. Almost immediately, Kenta shut himself up and looked away when he saw who was speaking. "Oh, hello, Monika!" said Naoki politely.

He and Daisuke caught each other's eyes, and the temptation to burst out laughing seemed almost impossible to quell. In their group, Monika Steinbeck was known for two things—firstly for being one of the prettiest and smartest girls in the entire school, and secondly for being Kenta's biggest crush ever since the two of them became classmates during freshman year. Kenta began scratching his head nervously, keen on avoiding Monika's glance. It was all for naught, however, when Monika began speaking again.

"I just wanted to ask Kenta if he's free later," she said cheerfully. "I need a bit of help moving some stuff from the storeroom on our floor, and well, um . . . I don't know who else to turn to."

_Thank you, Monika. _The instinct to laugh almost broke Daisuke as he looked at Kenta, whose ears turned red. Kenta was easily one of the largest boys in their year; it somehow made sense for Monika to ask for help from him, though why she chose to approach him out of nowhere like this, Daisuke could not guess.

"Well, I dunno about Kenta here," he said, grinning knowingly as he nodded over at Kenta. "Are you free later, Kenta?"

Kenta mumbled indistinctly back, still not bearing to look up. Fearing that Monika might find his gesture disrespectful, Daisuke kicked Kenta's shins from under their cafeteria table. Kenta looked up with a start, yelling quickly, "Y-Yes! I'm free later!"

"Great!" Monika flashed him a sweet smile. "I'll see you later outside your classroom, alright?"

"Ah, n-no!" Kenta cried out, flustered. "I'll just meet you at y-yours!"

"Oh! Well, if you say so," said Monika jauntily. "See you later!"

Daisuke and Naoki waited until Monika was out of earshot before they started laughing. Kenta looked grumpily at them. "Well, it looks like I'm not the only one who's _really good _at first impressions," Daisuke stated. "Monika must've really liked you as a classmate, Kenta!"

"Well, if you don't count him stuttering and tripping over his own two feet whenever she passes by," said Naoki amusedly.

"Alright, alright, you two had your fun," Kenta grumbled. "Let's just carry on before I knock both your heads off. . ."

* * *

The three of them finished eating with around twenty minutes to spare before classes resumed. Daisuke decided to go back to class early in order to finalize his sketch, while Kenta and Naoki made their way back to their classroom as well. The hallway was rather noisy, with some students talking loudly from inside and outside their respective classrooms. As Daisuke walked through the school hallway, he stopped when he saw a most curious sight.

Natsuki was sitting alone on a staircase. She wasn't looking at anything or anyone in particular as she nibbled rather slowly on a sandwich. Rather surprised at this, Daisuke decided to approach her.

"Hello," he called out as he drew nearer.

Startled, Natsuki looked up. The surprise didn't linger for long on her face, however. "Oh, it's you," she muttered.

"What are you doing here all alone?" asked Daisuke.

"Eating," Natsuki replied curtly. "And I was just finishing up. Excuse me."

Daisuke could not help but notice that half of the sandwich she had been eating was still unfinished even as she stowed it away in the small paper bag he had seen her carrying. Nevertheless, he decided not to mention so, fearing an unwarranted outburst from Natsuki. "Well, um, I guess I must've disturbed you or something . . . I'm sorry."

With that, Daisuke turned away. But Natsuki's voice stopped him. "Why did you even come here, anyway?" she asked.

Daisuke looked back at her. "Well, it's just kinda weird . . . I mean, why aren't you having lunch in the cafeteria?"

Natsuki frowned. "It's . . . It's none of your b-business. . ."

"Well, maybe," said Daisuke with a shrug. "But don't get me wrong, I'm not saying you shouldn't eat here or anywhere else. It's just that—"

"Just w-what?" asked Natsuki in a defensive tone.

Daisuke paused for a moment, wondering whether he should be more honest with his reply or if he should just take the casual way out and leave without elaborating much. Just then, an idea flickered inside his head. Knowing he'd only have a few seconds to decide on it before Natsuki overrode him and left, he decided to get on with it.

"Stay there, if it's alright with you. I'll be right back."

With that, Daisuke quickly ran to their classroom, snatched his sketch pad, mechanical pencil and eraser from his backpack, and ran all the way back to the staircase where Natsuki was. Though he half-expected her to be gone by the time he returned, Daisuke was surprised to see her still standing there.

"What are you doing?" asked Natsuki, her brow furrowed quizzically.

"Well, if you want, you can watch me draw," replied Daisuke. "I mean, there's still a few minutes left before classes resume, so if you, um . . . if you wanna stay here, I'd be glad to accompany you."

Privately, he was wondering exactly what made him think about such an idea. In a way, he somehow felt that it was the right thing to do, to keep her company. But he could also feel how sudden and even awkward it all was, and it seemed that Natsuki herself also thought so, judging from how her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You're a very weird guy," she muttered.

"Well, everyone has their quirks," said Daisuke with a casual smile. "You like manga; I like manga. You like eating alone; I like drawing while someone's watching."

That last part was a lie, though. Daisuke always felt nervous whenever someone would pass by and cast glances on whatever he was drawing. It was even worse at home, when his sister Hiroko would often tease him about his sketches, especially when they were of the various female characters that he liked in the manga issues that he read online and on paperback. He couldn't bring himself to say so in front of Natsuki, however, especially since she might think that her watching him draw earlier was wrong. The last thing he wanted right now was an outburst from her while they were out of the classroom, where people would see and hear clearly.

As if to prove his point, Daisuke sat down next to the spot where Natsuki was sitting, careful not to block the staircase. Still frowning, Natsuki moved out of his way and simply stood a few steps above him. As he opened his sketch pad, Daisuke said, "If you wanna leave, I understand. I'll just be here drawing until the bell rings."

And with that, he was sketching away, putting in the finishing touches on the sketch he had been working so hard on. He didn't turn around to look, nor did he speak up after everything had gone quiet. _If she leaves, it's alright. It's not like it's my business to force her to stay_.

Quietly, carefully, Natsuki sat down behind him. Though Daisuke couldn't see her do so, he heard her sit down, and he also knew from the fact that Natsuki didn't go down the stairs and pass him by. After a few moments of silence, Daisuke heard silent bites and chews behind him, and he smiled a little when he realized that Natsuki had resumed eating.

"You know . . . you're really good at that," she said after few minutes.

Daisuke chuckled. "Thanks. Though I wouldn't call myself good because I don't even put color in my art," he replied. "It's not as polished as most of the digital art stuff you see online."

"Don't you know how to color?" asked Natsuki.

"With sketches like this one? No," Daisuke admitted. "I'll need to trace everything out with a pen or a marker before I can start coloring, otherwise the pencil marks will just look blurred out. But the tracing part itself is already tough enough."

"Why don't you try it more often? M-Maybe practice does make perfect."

"Oh, believe me; I tried a few times before. I've actually ruined a few of my sketches simply because I couldn't trace carefully enough. If I'm gonna practice, I guess I should be doing it with doodles first instead of near-finished sketches."

When silence stretched between them once more, Daisuke decided to ask, "Why are you eating here of all places? Why not in the cafeteria? I mean, some students eat their packed lunches there as well, you know?"

Natsuki paused before answering. Her voice had a defensive edge to it. "I don't f-feel like eating there."

"Can I at least ask why not?" Daisuke inquired.

She sighed, as if she was getting irritated at his questions. "Well, I'm j-just used to eating alone, okay?"

"Don't you have any friends?"

A longer pause stretched before Natsuki mumbled back, "N-Not that many. . ."

"Hmm. . ." Daisuke didn't want to assume that Natsuki didn't have too many friends because of her attitude; rather, he thought that it was because she didn't have a lot of friends that she acted so sharply and warily. He slowed down the strokes he was making on the sketch pad as he said, "Well, I also don't have a lot of friends. I mean, of course I know some of the people in class, but my best buddies, they're in 3-C. Really sucks."

"I see . . ." Natsuki mumbled.

_Not much of a talker yet, I see. Then again, we only just met. _"But still, it's never too late to meet new people, you know? I mean, you're a new face for me, but it doesn't mean I shouldn't try to at least get to know you better. I mean, we are seatmates and classmates, after all. . ."

Natsuki sighed. Daisuke heard her crumple up her lunch bag behind him. "Y-Yeah, I guess you're right. . ."

At that moment, the first school bell rang, signaling the students across the school to return to their classrooms before the second and final bell. Almost immediately, students began filing into the corridors as they made their way back to their respective classrooms. Daisuke put his mechanical pencil into his jacket's pocket and closed his sketch pad as he got up. Behind him, Natsuki stood up as well.

"Tell you what," said Daisuke. "If you like, I can come over here every time after I eat lunch, and I'll keep you company if you want. You can eat and watch while I draw."

Natsuki furrowed her brow. "Why?"

"Well, it's just a friendly invitation," he replied. "I mean, I dunno about you, but it's kinda better than eating alone and in silence, right? And it sure beats spending the rest of lunchtime in the classroom. Besides, I haven't even asked you yet about a few things."

"W-What few things?" Natsuki looked wary again.

"About manga and anime," said Daisuke with a grin. "I'm gonna be honest, I feel like I'm part of a dying breed of manga lovers in this school. Kenta and Naoki may be my best friends, but they're not exactly manga aficionados. Naoki's more of a technical reader, while I still wonder sometimes how Kenta can read."

Natsuki still looked defensive, but Daisuke could swear that he saw the corners of her mouth crinkle for a moment, as if she would smile at his quip. When she looked at him directly in the eyes, however, her face remained serious. "Why are you doing this?" she asked quietly.

_Why indeed? _Though Daisuke had explained his reasons earlier, he wondered if Natsuki would indeed take them as they were. Still, he found no other reason to state, and somehow he felt that his reasons were true enough. "Well, like I said, think of it as a friendly gesture from a classmate. It may sound weird or sudden, but, well . . . I'll let you be the judge of that. If you don't want to, though, I totally understand. Anyway, I'll see you back at the classroom."

And with that, Daisuke turned and joined the throng of other students in the school corridors. He didn't hear Natsuki follow behind him, nor did he hear her even call out a reply to his words. He shrugged it off and decided to simply get on with the rest of the day as he reentered the 3-D classroom. He sat back down in his chair and perused the art on his sketch pad one more time, rubbing out a few wayward lines and details with his eraser.

Natsuki entered the classroom around a minute after he did. Daisuke cast a glance at her and saw that she was avoiding looking at him again. She sat down stiffly and began fiddling with her hands. Letting her be, Daisuke closed his sketch pad and started stowing it away in his backpack. As he did so, he heard Natsuki speak.

"S-Same time, same place . . . ?"

Surprised, Daisuke looked up at her. Natsuki was still fidgeting in her seat, her pink eyes seemingly displaying both conflict and determination. Every few seconds, she'd look at Daisuke and quickly turn away when she would see him still gazing at her, as if she couldn't bear to make eye contact with him for more than a second. Daisuke had expected her to refuse, or at the very least leave his invitation unanswered.

He smiled. "I'll bring some of my manga along."

Maybe Kenta was right. Maybe he _was _actually good at making first impressions.


	3. Chapter 3 - Mingling Over Manga

**CHAPTER THREE**** – ****MINGLING OVER MANGA (NatSuke)**

Daisuke ate rather quickly. He didn't even care that today's lunch was a bit colder than usual. In fact, he didn't even bother to think about the taste of the cafeteria's servings for today—rice, ground pork with vegetables, and broth—as he ate. Instead, he was wondering on whether the manga he had brought along for Natsuki would spark her interest, or at least convince her that he does read manga. Social Studies, their class before lunchtime, had taken up the first five minutes of their lunchbreak, leaving him with less time to eat and catch up to Natsuki at the same time.

As always, Kenta was the first to remark. "I don't think I've ever seen you eat this fast, Daisuke. What's up?"

"Just have . . . something to do . . ." said Daisuke in between mouthfuls of lunch.

"You're not talking about schoolwork, are you?" said Kenta. "I mean, it's just the second day of school."

Though Naoki also looked puzzled, he simply shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with catching up on something. Just leave him be, Kenta."

"Alright, alright," Kenta relented. He puffed up his chest rather proudly and looked around at them with a genial gleam in his eyes. "Besides, I dunno about you guys, but I feel a lot more . . . observant today, y'know? A lot more talkative. I had a pretty swell day yesterday, so I'm feeling pretty good, that's all."

"Kenta, you're . . . always talkative. . ." Daisuke stated. He swallowed and spoke more freely. "I mean, you're basically the first one to always say something funny about class or today's lunch or stuff even if no one wants to hear it."

"I know, I know. Today just feels different, alright?" Kenta smiled. "I dunno if I should tell you guys about it, but . . . ah, it's about Monika."

Daisuke slowed down a little, and even Naoki looked surprised. "Oh, yeah, she asked you to help her yesterday, right? So how did it go?"

"Oh, I see," Kenta cried out in mock exasperation. "So when you guys say something and I ask you about it, you tell me 'Oh, shut up, Kenta, leave us be,' but when something interesting happens to me and you find out, I have to tell you a little story? Some friends you are, you little dolts!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," said Daisuke with a laugh. "I just need to catch up with Natsuki. Lunch is the only time that we can talk easily."

Kenta's frustrated expression changed instantly into a knowing grin. He elbowed Naoki playfully. "Oho, looks like the pink-haired petite girl just left a mark on our friend here, Naoki. Aren't you proud? Looks like Daisuke is on his way to becoming a man now!"

"See, this is _exactly _why I don't share stuff with you, Kenta," Daisuke muttered facetiously. "Anyway, we're gonna be talking about . . . about manga."

"Manga?" Kenta frowned. "Of all the things you can talk about—love, friendship, getting her phone number—you're gonna talk about _manga_?"

Naoki, on the other hand, smiled. "That's actually a good way to go about it, Daisuke. That's your common interest, right? I'm sure that'll help you talk to her better."

"Thank you, Naoki, at least _you_ get it," Daisuke remarked, high-fiving Naoki.

Kenta scratched his head irritably. "Okay, okay, I know I'm the odd man out again," he grumbled. "Just because I don't read all the time doesn't mean I should get a lot of flak for the stuff I say about reading. Anyway, I dunno if you guys still wanna hear about what happened yesterday about me and Monika, so I guess I'll just—"

"No, no, we _definitely _want to hear what happened!" Naoki said quickly.

"Better make it quick, though," said Daisuke. "Natsuki might be waiting for me now."

"Yeah, yeah, it's not like there are a lot of interesting details that I can share with you guys," Kenta said, waving his hand dismissively. "We just . . . talked about a few things. Like that time we used to be classmates. She asked me how I was, and how my grades were last year."

"Well, if we're talking about your grades, then yeah, nothing much to discuss there," Daisuke joked.

"Go to another damn table because no one's laughing at your joke here, Daisuke," Kenta complained, even though Naoki was sniggering next to him. "Anyway, she needed to move some stuff that the debate club needed for their clubroom, apparently. A few extra chairs and tables, nothing too heavy," he added proudly.

"I'm sure she was _really _impressed," Naoki said.

"She was!" Kenta laughed, and Daisuke had to stop himself from laughing as well; there really were times when Kenta simply did not understand sarcasm. He continued haughtily, "She even told me how much of a big help I was, and that she was too shy to ask others for help because she didn't know them that much. And then she, ah . . . She said, um . . ."

As quickly as that, Kenta's confidence vanished. In its place, discomfiture suddenly prevailed. Daisuke, who was expecting a litany about how awesome Kenta was in Monika's eyes, felt rather surprised, and Naoki looked slightly confused. "She said what?" he asked.

"Well, she, um . . ." Kenta paused for a moment, scratching his head nervously. He looked around nervously, seemingly checking to see if there were any eavesdroppers at the cafeteria tables and aisles around them. When he spoke again, he leaned in so close across the table, as if revealing one of the world's biggest secrets. "She asked me if . . . if I'm free next Wednesday a-after school, because she needs . . . she needs help buying s-some stuff for her m-mom. . ."

A few seconds of silence prevailed after Kenta's reply. He merely looked at the two of them intently, as if staring daggers at them to make sure that they won't reveal a word of what he had just said to anyone. It didn't take long, however, before both Daisuke and Naoki burst out laughing—partly because of the surprising turn of events Kenta had just narrated, and partly because of the look on Kenta's face. Kenta, on the other hand, looked so sullen and irritated that he merely folded his arms across his chest and scowled.

Naoki clapped him hard on the shoulder. "Well, congratulations, Kenta!" he said. "I mean, really, that's probably your biggest achievement to date! You should consider yourself lucky, my friend!"

"And you should be thankful I'm not throwing you two dolts outside the windows right now!" Kenta snapped.

"No, really, I swear!" Naoki cried out reassuringly, though he didn't appear reassuring as he continued laughing. "I'm not laughing at you like Daisuke is, I really am proud! It's just that . . . well, look at it this way: why would Monika ask _you _instead of someone she knows better, right? I mean, that's got to mean something!"

"Well, he's right," Daisuke added. He cleared his throat to stop himself from laughing. "I mean, maybe . . . maybe Monika just trusts you that much, Kenta. She could've asked anyone else, like her female friends or those in the debate club, but she asked _you_. Think about it."

"Well, yeah, I g-guess that's one way to think about it," Kenta acknowledged in a huff.

As Naoki began offering some advice, Daisuke took the time to finish eating, musing that perhaps there was still enough time left after Kenta's short interval of storytelling. When he looked at his wristwatch, however, he saw that there were only around fourteen minutes left before their next class. He snapped to attention. _Natsuki!_

"Holy crap, guys, I have to go, alright?" he cried out. "Natsuki might be already waiting for me. We'll continue this later or tomorrow! Congratulations, Kenta! See you, Naoki!"

And with that, he scrambled up from the table and bolted out of the cafeteria, leaving Kenta and Naoki staring after him in awe.

* * *

As Natsuki sat alone at the staircase, hugging her first issue of _Parfait Girls _almost protectively against her chest, her emotions were warring against one another; embarrassment, pride, excitement, confusion. Most of the students were simply passing her by, and she was grateful that no one seemed to pay that much attention towards her. She felt so . . . exposed.

_Where the heck is he? _Natsuki couldn't help but feel that Daisuke was simply humoring her until he could find an opening and make fun of her. It had always been like that with other people, people who thought that her interests were nothing more than a cute phase, so adorable and fitting for a girl like her. _Cute_. The mere thought of the word and how it was always used by people to describe her made Natsuki cringe.

And yet, cute she was to the world—at least, from her perspective. Natsuki knew that many of her characteristics caused people to call her so all the time; her hair, her eyes, her small frame, and her love for charming and adorable things. Of course, Natsuki could never deny these things—they were solid parts of her personality and her life—but somehow she resented the idea of being typecast solely as cute because of them. She always grew irritated at such thoughts, and outright furious whenever someone downplayed her sentiments and emotions as simply "cute."

Natsuki hugged _Parfait Girls _even tighter. _Where the heck is he? _To be honest, she somehow looked forward to sharing manga with Daisuke, though she also felt embarrassed at how awkward it could all turn out to be. Last night, as she lay in bed thinking about what he had said and done, Natsuki began questioning his motives in her mind. She didn't want to trust him too much, just in case he would turn out to be no different from all the people who mocked her or treated her lightly because of her preferences and interests under the pretense of getting to know her. However, Daisuke's niceness felt sincere, and that was what convinced her to at least hear him out for today.

"Hey, I'm here!"

Daisuke had finally arrived. She heaved a sigh of relief and exasperation at the sight of him. "I thought you weren't going to show up," she said sourly.

Daisuke scratched his head apologetically. "Had a small chat with my friends, sorry about that," he replied. "Had to go back to the classroom to get my manga as well. Well, here they are!"

Indeed, tucked underneath his left arm were three manga books, all from different issues based on what Natsuki could make of the titles and colors they displayed on their spines. All of a sudden, Natsuki felt a bit conscious that she had brought only her first _Parfait Girls _issue with her. Once Daisuke had gotten near her, he sat down on almost the exact spot where he had sat on yesterday when he had kept her company. Taking his lead, Natsuki sat down to his right, close to the opposite side of the staircase. Daisuke lay his manga down on the step he was sitting on.

"What are those?" she asked immediately.

Daisuke smiled. "Well, are you familiar with _Gun Breakers_, _Yesterday's Daylight_ and _Mutant Idol_?" he asked.

To her surprise, Natsuki was indeed familiar with all three of them, though she had never taken the time to read and follow _Gun Breakers_ and _Mutant Idol_; the former was from the sci-fi and mecha genre, while the latter was a mixture of horror and shoujo. _Yesterday's Daylight_, however, was another case—it was a slice-of-life romance and comedy that Natsuki found fantastic. "You've read _Yesterday's Daylight_ as well?" she asked rather eagerly.

"Well, I'm glad that you know at least one of them," said Daisuke, laughing. "Yeah, managed to finish it during vacation!"

"Oh, yeah? I managed to read that, like, three years ago," said Natsuki proudly. "And I also happen to be familiar with _Gun Breakers_ and _Mutant Idol_, okay? I just never got around to reading them because they're not exactly my type. _Mutant Idol_ can be really disgusting and just plain dark at times, and—"

She stopped for a moment, only then realizing that she had just started on a monologue about her opinions and thoughts—and on the start of their conversation, no less. Though she had expected to stay in control of her words while talking to Daisuke, everything was momentarily forgotten once _Yesterday's Daylight _was mentioned. She glanced at Daisuke, who was looking at her with mild surprise. She blushed slightly as she looked away.

"I'm f-familiar with all of them," she stated lamely.

Daisuke, however, didn't seem to mind that much. "That's alright," he said lightly. For the next few minutes, the two of them entered a conversation that revolved around a number of things: the manga's author, the art style, the plot, and the characters. In spite of her doubts, Natsuki slowly began enjoying herself, and she was starting to ease back into the same enthusiasm she had shown just a few minutes earlier.

"Who was your favorite character in _Daylight_? Personally, mine was Miyu," said Daisuke.

Natsuki's mind quickly picked up on his question. "Miyu? . . . Oh, _Miyu_. Well, I've always found her a bit weird for my taste. I mean, seriously, I don't think anyone could be _that _oblivious to someone's feelings when everything is _right in front of you already_! If you ask me, I think my favorite would be Reiko. She's more alert, and she's never afraid to tell people what she thinks. Anyone who tries anything funny, she'd shut them down in an instant!"

Daisuke grinned. "Yeah, looking back on it, Reiko does resemble you in some ways."

"I know, ri—Hey, wait!" In a flash, Natsuki went from amused to suspicious. "What are you trying to imply?! Are you trying to m-mock me for being straightforward like her?!"

Ostensibly caught off guard by her tone, Daisuke looked startled. "Wait, what? Of c-course not!" he cried out. "What I meant was that Reiko had a few qualities that you have as well, and that's a good t-thing!"

Natsuki bristled a little, wondering whether Daisuke's reply was any good. She mellowed a bit, however, when she reflected and saw that he never really said anything that offended her. She sighed. "It's alright. I just t-thought you were being cheeky or something. . ."

"That's okay," said Daisuke. The relief in his voice was almost palpable in her hearing. "I should've phrased my words a bit better. But anyway, yeah, Reiko's probably my second favorite character in _Daylight_ after Miyu. Kinda wished she ended up with Kazuya in the end."

"I agree," said Natsuki. "But Kazuya was too dense to ever figure out how to go through Reiko's exterior. He just . . . assumed that that's all there was with her."

A short silence fell between them. Natsuki didn't know how to break it, considering that she almost screwed up everything by reacting so defensively to such a simple thing as being compared to a manga character. Luckily, Daisuke saved her the trouble. "So, um . . . Would you mind introducing me to _Parfait Girls_?" he asked.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, caught off guard as she remembered the book she had been holding all this time. In all honesty, Natsuki never figured that she would reach this point today with Daisuke. She was perfectly fine with him simply explaining his love for manga as well as the manga issues that he followed and read, but regarding the idea of introducing _Parfait Girls _to a new friend . . .

"You h-haven't read this yet, right?" she asked.

"Well . . . not yet," said Daisuke. "I think I've seen it a few times online, but I didn't dig much into it. . ."

"Because it's boring and girly?" said Natsuki bluntly.

"N-No, it's not like that!" said Daisuke, his nervousness returning. "It's just that . . . well, sometimes I get so caught up in the series and books I'm following that I don't really have the time to look for new series to try out just yet."

With a sigh, Natsuki brandished the book at Daisuke and stated sternly, "Well, I have to warn you, you'd better take a beautiful manga like _Parfait Girls_ seriously if I'm going to share it with you! _Parfait Girls _may look predictable or one-dimensional on the outside, but it's got its twists and turns! If I'm going to let you read it, then you need to read into _everything _it has to offer, alright?"

A determined tone rang so soundly in her voice that Daisuke looked amazed for a moment. Natsuki kept glaring at him, as if to make her point clear—and crystal clear it was from her perspective. Back then, she usually opened up excitedly about her manga, and she even positively invited friends to read a few panels here and there. But once most people began laughing at her and stating that _Parfait Girls _was just a childish manga that matched the cuteness she had, she decided to take a more direct approach regarding people who asked about her manga nowadays. Natsuki eyed Daisuke intently. _Maybe he really means well_.

Daisuke let out a little chuckle, however, and her thoughts of giving him a chance seemed to fall apart in her mind. She began trembling with resentment; all the memories of her so-called friends and other people who had laughed in her face came flooding back.

"You're . . . l-laughing at it, aren't you?!" she cried out angrily. "And at _me_?! You think I'm not serious?!"

"W-Wait, that's not—!" Daisuke quickly stopped laughing and sat up straighter as he began blurting out his words, but Natsuki didn't want to hear any of it.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, embracing Parfait Girls protectively around her once again as if she expected Daisuke to just lunge at her and grab the book. Her voice rose to daring levels of volume. "You think my manga is just for . . . f-for kids, don't you?! Because it's not as cool as your s-stupid _Gun Breakers_ or scary like _Mutant Idol_, right?!"

"No! That's not what I meant, Natsuki!" said Daisuke.

"You don't h-have the right to mock me for what I like, okay?!" she yelled. A few students who were passing by started looking at them arguing, and that made her feel even more conscious. "Just because I'm not into m-manga that's mostly for the _cool kids _like you are doesn't mean you s-should laugh at me!"

"I wasn't laughing at you!" Daisuke cried out earnestly. "I just found what you said, well . . . _amazing_, alright?"

That put the brakes on Natsuki. "A-Amazing?" she sputtered.

"Y-Yes!" Daisuke sighed in relief. Before Natsuki could get back on track, he went on. "It's just . . . you know, awesome to see exactly how passionate someone is about something they like. You definitely showed just how serious and enthusiastic you are about your preferences, and that's why I found myself laughing a bit, because it's, well . . . it's just a remarkable sight to see someone speak about it the way you do. I mean, sometimes, that's how I feel, too!"

Natsuki leered suspiciously at him. "What do you m-mean?"

"I mean, I know how you feel based from experience as another manga lover, okay?" Natsuki could see that Daisuke wanted to laugh or at least smile, but he looked to be hesitating out of fear for another flare-up from her. "I really wanted to share what I was reading, because somehow I felt that maybe other people will have as much fun as I was having. Of course, reading manga is nice and all, but once you grow older, people start expecting you to grow out of it. Well . . . I still haven't done that. Some people have laughed at me in the past because of it, and that just sucks because it . . . it's such a waste because when you grow older, you learn to appreciate things more, and manga has a lot of things that you can definitely appreciate apart from the stuff you already liked when you were a kid. Anyway, because of those people's opinions, I began questioning my love for manga, and I even considered just dropping it and focusing on some of the 'better' stuff, like they say. I mean, what's the point of liking something if you're going to be made fun of? It's like you can't even begin to discuss it with your friends, let alone with new people, r-right?"

Natsuki was stunned again. She could practically hear herself saying those words to someone, though she had never done so because . . . well, there was no someone to say them to. Daisuke continued, "I would _never_ make fun of anyone simply because they have a preference or interest that's different from mine, because I don't want anyone to share in that kind of bad experience. One of the reasons I'm here talking to you about manga is because in some way, I feel that I can share these kinds of things with you, a fellow manga lover, without being laughed at or mocked. I'm sorry if my laugh came across as something wrong for you. I'm just . . . happy about this."

Another silence fell. Daisuke didn't move; he just stared at her intently, and Natsuki could find nothing in his words to rebut. She moved her glance back and forth from him to his manga books. Slowly, shame started creeping into her, shame from having such an immediate burst of outrage towards a sincere person from something that she could have understood in a few simple seconds of thinking. This caused her to become angry again—though this time, not towards Daisuke.

She quietly turned away. "I understand," she murmured. "I'm . . . I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry as well," said Daisuke softly. "I really should work on how I—"

"No, that's okay," Natsuki interjected. "I'm the one who needs work. I should l-learn how to stop and think s-sometimes. . ."

Silence returned once more. For a moment, Natsuki wanted nothing more than to get up and walk back to the classroom before her humiliation could grow any worse. Daisuke, on the other hand, showed no sign of getting up and leaving. Instead, he looked back up at her and spoke with a gentle seriousness.

"I still want to take a look at _Parfait Girls_, if that's okay with you. If I ever make fun of it and of you in any way, you can scream at me as much as you want."

Natsuki looked at him. Daisuke still looked so determined and honest that she couldn't bring herself to say anything else. She sighed resignedly. "I won't just scream at you. I'll probably even beat you up."

Daisuke grinned. "Fair enough."

With trembling hands, Natsuki finally handed over her copy of _Parfait Girls_. "Take a good long look if you want," she said curtly. "If I see a crease on any of the pages later, I'll kill you."

In silence, Daisuke opened the book carefully and began reading. Natsuki watched him intently, taking the time to observe him as she had never done before while he was focused on skimming and scanning _Parfait Girls_. With his wavy blonde hair, his hazel eyes and a youthful face that made his age difficult to decipher, Daisuke had a special kind of aura about him that Natsuki could not help but be drawn to. Perhaps it was the fact that she couldn't find anything except honesty and congeniality behind his expressions so far, and that Daisuke had nothing to hide from her at all as a friend except, obviously, the most private secrets that any person keeps. Every once in a while, Daisuke would smile or nod as he skimmed through the pages; Natsuki had to stop herself from assuming instantly that he was laughing at her.

She shifted her glance from his face to her manga. Indeed, Daisuke was carefully flipping over the pages, seemingly following her instructions not to leave any creases for fear of death. Of course, Natsuki never meant to actually kill him if he left a crease, but she wanted to at least drive the point across. Watching him read her favorite series in silence was like watching a stranger read about a private portion of her life story.

"Hmm. . . Is it awkward to say that . . . I kind of want to read this?"

Natsuki blinked. Daisuke was looking at her, smiling embarrassedly. Her brow furrowed as surprise crept through her.

". . . What?" she muttered.

"I don't know, but . . . well, I was once interested in shoujo and moe. It's, er . . . one of the phases I had while growing up," he replied. "I kind of stopped reading it as I branched out into other genres, but I return to it every once in a while. D-Don't get me wrong, though, I don't think shoujo like this is too girly or childish for my taste!" he added quickly.

"Then why do you want to read it?" said Natsuki, nonplussed.

Daisuke shrugged. "It looks interesting. I mean, more interesting than most of the shoujo and moe stuff I've read."

Natsuki frowned. "Just be honest."

"I am!" Daisuke said intently. "No, really, I am. I've never read this before, and I must say, I really like the humor and the art style, but I also like the way the characters are portrayed. You . . . You were right."

"R-Right about what?" asked Natsuki warily.

"That there's more to it than what it shows at first," Daisuke replied. "Any person who's not a manga-lover—or at least not a shoujo fan—would take one look at this and assume that it's just . . . all about girly stuff and silly humor, but when you take the time to read a few panels and watch a few interactions, you can see that there's actually some weight behind it, that there's some emotion and even a bit of drama there. That's why I said I want to be able to read more of this."

Natsuki was now really surprised. Again, Daisuke spoke with such honesty that she was caught off guard. At the back of her head, her usual no-nonsense way of thinking was telling her that Daisuke was merely patronizing her love for _Parfait Girls_, but another side of her was saying that she could at least give him the benefit of the doubt. However, Natsuki had never shared _Parfait Girls _with anyone else by actually lending them the books—simply sharing their concepts to others and being ridiculed for it had been painful enough.

A few more moments of total silence went on, broken only by the sound of the first bell after lunchtime. Gradually, the noise in the hallway intensified as students began preparing to move back to their classrooms. Even as she racked her brain for the right words, Natsuki really couldn't find anything else to say at the moment.

After waiting for a reply in vain, Daisuke let out a sad sigh. "Well, if you don't believe me, I understand," he said. He closed Natsuki's copy—taking care again not to leave wrinkles or creases on the pages or cover—and handed it back to her. "It still looks like a good manga to me. If I can borrow it from you, just . . . just tell me, alright?"

Natsuki took back the book slowly. After she had done so, Daisuke picked up his own manga books and tucked them back underneath his left arm. He stood up, and Natsuki stood up alongside him. "Well, I guess that was a good start, hmm?" he said.

"Well, um . . . I guess so," Natsuki mumbled.

"Tomorrow, same time, same place?" asked Daisuke. "I'll be bringing some new manga if you want."

Natsuki didn't answer. To be honest, she did enjoy the time she had just spent with him—much better than eating and sulking alone while waiting for the next class—though she couldn't bring herself to admit so. She still felt slightly ashamed at her earlier outburst and the fact that she couldn't answer Daisuke's statement of wanting to know more of _Parfait Girls_. Natsuki cursed herself inwardly. Here was someone who actually spoke with more genuineness in the past two days than any of her former friends ever did in her life, and still she was warding him off with her standoffish demeanor.

_No longer_. She held out her copy of _Parfait Girls _and pressed it against Daisuke's chest. "Take it," she blurted out.

"N-Natsuki—" Daisuke began, but she went on relentlessly.

"I'm not g-giving it away, okay?" she snapped, hoping that the irritability in her voice would mask the fact that she was starting to blush. "I'm just lending it to you. You said you want to try reading it, so here you go!"

She closed her eyes, resisting the urge to look up and see the expression on Daisuke's face. To her relief, she felt Daisuke's right hand take the book gently from her hands. Only then did Natsuki open her eyes, and she lowered her hands quickly. Daisuke was looking at the book with a small smile on his face. He tucked it safely along with his copies of _Gun Breakers, Mutant Idol _and _Yesterday's Daylight_.

"I'll return it as soon as I finish it," said Daisuke genially. "If I end up liking it even more, I might just start looking for copies of other issues online."

"No need," Natsuki muttered. "I have them all. If you want to borrow them, j-just ask."

The grin on Daisuke's face was momentarily replaced with a look of surprise. "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Natsuki snapped. "Now, you better make sure that you return that without any marks or wrinkles or torn pages, alright?! If I ever find even just a small bit of damage on that, I'll . . . I'll break your legs!"

Even in her hearing, her words sounded awkward enough to be considered—to her personal chagrin—_cute_. Not opting to wait for a reaction or reply, she turned away and hurried back to their classroom before she could melt underneath Daisuke's gaze.


	4. Chapter 4 - Meaningful Reading

**CHAPTER FOUR**** – ****MEANINGFUL READING (YuKi)**

Naoki closed his notebook and stretched his arms out, letting out a relieved sigh as he did. A quick glance at the nearby wall clock told him that it was only nine-thirty in the evening. Pleasant surprise gripped him a little; he had expected to be done with his homework at around ten. He went over to his bedside table, took a look at his cellphone, and saw that he had three text messages: two from Kenta, one from Daisuke.

"_who's done w/ the math hw? looking at u naoki_"

"_did any of u guys borrow issue no. 5 of my band fist revo manga, pls reply ASAP panicking rn need it for natsuki tomorrow_"

"_nvm monika just messaged me, gonna do this by myself _#Responsibility"

Naoki laughed, thankful for the humor that his friends had unwittingly delivered through their text messages. It helped give a busy evening a bit of respite. Schoolwork was starting to snowball, though it was nothing that Naoki couldn't manage yet. A couple of hours devoted to finishing everything in the evening was all it took to clear up any given academic workload for the day. He had been following this schedule ever since he had started school, since it gave him extra time to read his favorite books afterwards.

The thought of reading, however, brought him to Yuri. Naoki fell silent, both inwardly and outwardly.

Yuri was extraordinary. There was no other word for her that Naoki could think of at the moment. Never before had he met someone with a more contrasting personality than her, highly knowledgeable and passionate, but also greatly reserved and socially awkward. But that didn't make her too complicated or difficult to understand; in fact, it only served to make her even more interesting.

Over the past two weeks that they have been talking to one another as seatmates and classmates, discussing everything they could about the books they've read, Naoki could see a bit of his own persona in Yuri's social awkwardness—and a considerable amount of intellect as well. Among the triumvirate he was part of with Daisuke and Kenta, he was regarded as the smart one by virtue of his good academic grades and his eyeglasses, the figurative superego to Kenta the id and Daisuke the ego. It earned him some measure of admiration from his peers, since they respected academic prowess as much as they respected those who were skilled in other fields in school, like sports and arts. However, that had not always been the case. School life can be tumultuous sometimes, and Naoki had experienced his fair share of being talked about behind his back and even bullying when he was in middle school, simply because his smarts and appearance typecast him as a nerd in the eyes of some. His relief to that came in the form of Kenta and Daisuke, who stuck with him and helped him get past the bullying without judging him for being the smartest among the three of them. Naoki mused that perhaps Yuri had gone through similar experiences, but that she never had any friends that could stick up for her.

He walked over to the bookcase in his room and picked out one of the many books that he had already read—_Dreams from Dystopium_. Ever since he had begun talking with Yuri more, Naoki's interest in horror books had been rekindled, especially after Yuri had offered him a lot of insights about the books that she had already read. Privately, it made him want to catch up to her, and it instilled in him a desire to start reading newer works—particularly ones that he knew he could share with Yuri. For now, he sat back down at his desk and opened _Dreams from Dystopium_.

The book was a Western work, and it told the experiences of a man named Curt Morgan, experiences that began a year after his wife and only child had died in a car accident. Left all alone and slowly becoming depressed, Morgan turned to drugs and alcohol to cope with his loss, eventually shunning public life and distancing himself from his relatives and friends. The titular dreams come when Morgan soon finds himself wandering in a landscape that looks to be a twisted amalgamation of the real world and the grief in his mind, complete with eldritch creatures that seemed to be both benevolent and hostile to him—the only catch of this is that anything he seems to do in this dystopic dream world also affects the real world.

Within the next thirty minutes, Naoki soon found himself engrossed once more in the book, writing down a few notes and smiling at his own interpretations of a few parts. He had done so in the past, just like what he had told Yuri during their first encounter, but he was enjoying it even further as he knew that he could share it with her the following day. It was a lively and engaging experience, and he sensed that this was the same type of enthusiasm that Kenta and Daisuke undoubtedly felt where Monika and that pink-haired girl named Natsuki from 3-D were involved.

Tomorrow would be another productive day, indeed!

* * *

Yuri sighed as she stared outside the classroom's windows. Naoki would be back from having lunch with his friends by now, and though they still had around fifteen minutes of their lunchbreak remaining, she always wished that time would stop and let lunchtime last forever. If only she had the same kind of confidence that Naoki had, she would walk out of the classroom and into the corridors to meet him halfway. For now, though, she could only sit and wait.

Waiting was always the toughest part.

She twisted a lock of her purple hair around her finger, watching the leaves of the trees surrounding the school sway lazily in the noontime breeze. She was immensely thankful that Naoki was always patient and open with her, even when she tended to ramble on during their discussions sometimes and inadvertently deny Naoki the chance to get a word in. Though she expected Naoki to grow quiet from indignation during such times, he would only grin at her in that certain way which always sent her heart aflutter, assuring her that everything was fine. As she always did when tense, Yuri caressed her left forearm, with excitement coursing through her veins as she replayed over and over the times that Naoki had smiled at her during the past two weeks.

She had finished reading _Laughing at the Shadows _not long after the first day of school. As she had predicted, the ending was not as good as many would hope it to be, but it was also open-ended enough for Yuri to have a bit of closure with it. Tortured by both her dream-visions and the shadows, Natasha falls into a coma after attempting to commit suicide by overdosing on medicine. Immediately after this, no more death or tragedy took place ever again as the visions stopped along with Natasha's consciousness. The rest of the characters in the book begin coping in their own ways with Natasha's predicament and the relief they have finally experienced from the stoppage of Natasha's visions. The book ends abruptly with Natasha waking up from her coma a year later, leaving it entirely to the reader to decide what happened next, and whether or not the visions—and the shadows—returned with her.

Again, though the meaning of such an ending was debatable, Yuri preferred to think that Natasha had brought back the visions and shadows with her, a somber ending at best given the idea that such a power inside her seemed impossible to quell even with death. But she also liked to imagine that after Natasha's near-death experience, she had managed to reawaken as a person who had shed the flaws and limitations that had plagued her before, and was now in better control of her "powers" and her life. On the other hand, during one of their debates, Naoki stated that he believed that Natasha had managed to overcome everything, from the shadows to her "powers," and that it was the start of her road to recovery and a better life.

"But d-don't you think that such an ending is too g-good to be true?" Yuri had asked Naoki then.

"Well, maybe," Naoki had acquiesced with a smile. "But I also want to believe that an ending is still possible, you know? Not everything has to end on a terrible note; it only becomes bad if we make it out to be."

The last words of his statement still rang clear in Yuri's head. _It only becomes bad if we make it out to be._ She gripped her left forearm tightly, causing pain to shoot through her. Her past experiences—being disliked, being treated as a pariah, and being left to her own devices—had caused her to be surrounded in darkness, and to see things in a dismal manner all the time. She had wallowed in the dark for too long that any semblance of light that shone upon her almost burned and blinded her every single time it did. Light came in many forms for her: the happiness that people wanted to share with her, the relief that she desired and feared at the same time, and people like Naoki, if there was ever any other person that could fill in the figure he was in her life right now. She knew that ghosts didn't do well in the light, because they would become even more transparent than they already were, bordering on dissipating like morning mist evaporating in the sun. But why was it that, ever since she had met Naoki, she was drawn to the light, to _him_?

These conflicting thoughts would have overwhelmed her had Naoki not chosen to arrive at that exact moment.

"Hello, Yuri!" His voice was cordial, as it always was. Yuri looked up and saw that, thankfully, he was alone.

"Hello! Um, w-where's your b-best friend?" she asked him politely.

"Talking to, um . . . a friend," he replied with a knowing smirk as he sat down next to her. "Anyway, I really wanna share something with you right now. I went back to _Dystopium _last night, and I found a few other tidbits that might interest you!"

And so, most of the remaining minutes of their lunchbreak were spent on the two of them deliberating and analyzing Naoki's new findings about _Dreams from Dystopium_, which he had written down at the back of one of his notebooks, while Yuri would offer the insights she had as always. Naoki talked about emaciated zombie-like fiends and stated that for him, they symbolized the protagonist's deadened slivers of inspiration; descriptions of a horrid multi-tongued beast became an analysis of the many meaningless words and statements from others that had plagued the protagonist's fevered mind; hacking through an ever-growing jungle of razor-sharp thorns and vines while being ripped and torn to shreds signified the protagonist trying to fight his vices in vain.

Yuri had not read the book in particular, but even though she knew that she might be getting spoiled about a few parts should she ever choose to read it, she was definitely fine with all of it. In fact, Naoki's own enthusiasm about sharing his ideas and thoughts about the book served to pique her own interest in it, and she made a mental note to look for the book in the many bookstores she usually visited in the near future. In particular, the eldritch qualities of some of the horrors in the book fascinated her, as their depictions sent her imagination into overdrive—a quality that she frequently sought after in any and every book she read.

"The imagery of Curt Morgan's struggle with the vines and the thorns could also mean an underlying desire to escape from the horrors of his predicament. Because it appears that no matter how futile things are, he still tries to fight back and symbolically hack his way out of that proverbial jungle," Yuri offered. Her focus had returned, and like before, it had taken away her nerviness and stammering as she began to grow more comfortable with the discussion. "I also think that the beast with many tongues that you described, the one that Curt Morgan dislikes in particular, I think it can also signify the lies that he told others and himself to cope with his grief. From what you've said, with the level of hatred that he has for the creature, it can mean that he utterly loathes himself subconsciously for lying and saying all those things."

It took a few moments before Yuri realized that Naoki was not speaking anymore. Her confidence slipped a little as she looked at him, and she saw that there was only amazement on his face, similar to the one he had displayed when she spoke so confidently back at their first meeting. Heat suffused her face as she felt her cheeks turn pink.

"As always, you make really remarkable points, Yuri," said Naoki after a few moments of silence. "What you said holds just as much weight as what I've written here. Just another testament to the beauty of literature, hmm? Not to mention the . . . the unique way that you observe things."

Pink turned into red, and Yuri could again hear her heart beating feverishly against her chest, but she could not look away. She stammered, "I d-don't think I'm that unique, though. . ." she muttered shyly.

"No, trust me, you are!" Naoki closed his notebook and leaned forward a bit. Yuri drew back instinctively, but he didn't seem to mind. "You're really smart and insightful, Yuri, and it's really different from the other types of smart that other people have."

"What do you m-mean?" Yuri asked quietly.

"I mean, people can be smart in a lot of things, sure, and it applies in both the academic and the professional sense, like with jobs and what not, but your type of smart. . . It leans towards the creative and observant side, and that's . . . Um . . . It is rather hard to describe it in words, but . . ."

Naoki paused for a moment. Yuri looked at him expectantly, and wonder mixed with her own shyness when she saw just how serious he looked when he was thinking deeply.

"Your insights are . . . fascinating," Naoki went on. "You always speak about them with clarity and confidence, and listening to you is always . . . it's always a captivating experience, because the fact that you put so much thought in what you're saying, and the way it rings in your words . . . it's not just about analyzing for the sake of evaluating. With you, I feel that it's analyzing while _feeling_ . . . and it always gives me an idea of the way you think and see things."

He capped off his words with another one of his amiable, sincere smiles. Once more, Yuri felt the world fade away around her, as if she was engrossed in one of her favorite books. It felt like an entrancing spell was cast upon her, and again her ghostly being was seemingly suffused with the ability to become whole, tangible, solid. At the back of her head, however, the gloominess of her past and present still persisted, and it caused her to speak right now as if to break free of this spell of the light.

"B-But I'm afraid you're wrong, Naoki . . ." she said quietly.

". . . What?" Naoki looked confused for a moment.

Yuri looked at him imploringly. "I'm . . . I'm not s-smart! I'm not insightful, and I'm not even observant! I'm prone to s-spacing out whenever someone tries talking to me, and sometimes I don't even respond to what people s-say! I'm prone to letting my reading overwhelm my thoughts and emotions, and it doesn't always t-translate well when other people talk to m-me about them. It makes me stay quiet when I should b-be talking, and yet it also makes me ramble on and on once I actually do start talking that it becomes insufferable! So many of the people I've met think that I'm a know-it-all, b-but I don't feel that that's the case with me!

"I don't know a lot of things, so I can't understand w-why people would think that way about me. I don't know how to socialize and interact properly with people, I don't know h-how to make myself happy sometimes, and I don't know how . . . how to appear normal to other people. Does that s-sound like someone who knows a lot of things to you . . . ? I'm so deliberately conscious about how w-weird I am, and yet it's always difficult for me to do something about it. . . I read too deeply into things, but I can't stop d-doing just that, even when I'm not supposed to. . . I guess it's why I read books all the time, so that at least, my mannerisms, my thoughts, they'll have an outlet that I can direct them to."

Her voice wavered a little, and Yuri almost dug her fingernails painfully into the armrest of her chair as she realized that she had just done what she hated doing: rambling on. The thought of it, the effects of her words, and the sadness behind them slowly caused her to go back to being a ghost. She had done it; she had thrown off the spell that Naoki's words put on her, but the question that plagued Yuri now was . . . for what?

She snapped to, however, when she felt Naoki touch her shoulder gently. It was a fleeting gesture, meant to reassure more than anything else, and Naoki let go of her fairly quickly, as if he thought better than to hold her shoulder in such an intimate manner. Instead, he placed his hand atop her armrest. She stared at him, wondering for a few wild moments whether she would shy away from his hand or if she would sit still instead. Before she could do anything, Naoki spoke again; this time, his voice was hushed.

"I understand how you feel, Yuri. Trust me, I really do. If my words caused you to remember all those bad thoughts, I'm . . . I'm really sorry. But for me, I . . . I don't believe that you're that bad. I don't believe that you're weird or any different from the rest of us just because you tend to space out or overthink or speak your mind. That's just what it means to actually have emotions and thoughts, to sort them out and look at them in silence, and to have the drive to actually share them. That's why I totally appreciate it when you share them with me, because I know that you took the time and effort to straighten them out before sharing them, and that they're more than just your thoughts—they hold your feelings as well. You're not rambling on in my hearing, nor are you reading too much into things for me. It's actually frustrating when some people start labeling a girl like you as a know-it-all simply because you're smart and have a lot to say about certain things, because that waters down the sentiments and energy you put into your words, and that's not fair on your part."

The first end-of-lunchtime bell rang. Yuri bit her lip and caressed her left forearm. The emotions she felt just tugged at her heart and eyes, putting her at the risk of tearing up. Privately, she didn't know whether the bell gave her respite or made her sad that their conversation had to end as it always did daily. The way Naoki spoke, and the kind of words that he used, it made her feel like she was listening to one of the many sympathetic characters she had connected with in her books, but this time in real life.

"Why are you s-saying these things . . . ?" she asked him quietly.

A small smile crossed Naoki's face. "You are a lot of things, Yuri, and being insufferable is never one of them. I just want you to know that when you talk to me, it's okay if you drone on, it's okay if you space out, and it's totally okay if you second-guess. I want you to feel the same level of comfort that I feel when I share my thoughts with you. I don't want you to feel left out or discouraged, because your thoughts always matter."

Silence fell. Somehow, Yuri could still not look away from him, and she began to feel a little lightheaded as Naoki looked at her as well for just a bit longer. The chatter and clangor of other students walking by and taking their seats rang around them, but Yuri couldn't hear anything except Naoki and the way her heart thumped against her chest.

"You know, with the discussions we're having, that gives me an idea. . ." Naoki went on.

"W-What idea?" asked Yuri nervously. She was grateful for his statement; it distracted her from melting there and then.

"What if . . . we went out and bought a book that we've never read before, we read a chapter or two every night, and then we discuss our own takes on what we've read so far here in school the following day? I mean, that's gonna be even more interesting because we both have no idea what the book is all about compared to one of us discussing a book that the other hasn't read yet, right?"

In the next few seconds that Yuri took in Naoki's words, she saw just how much of an exciting and promising suggestion that was. It was something she had never done before with anyone, let alone with someone like Naoki. Naturally, however, her shyness and antisocial tendencies began screaming against it, and a myriad of negative thoughts began plaguing her head almost all at once.

"I usually buy the books I read at _Gallagher's_," Naoki went on. "I suppose you're familiar with it? It's close to the mall downtown!"

"Y-Yes, I'm familiar with it."

"Have you ever gone there?"

"S-Several times, actually."

"Well, that's good! So, um . . . what do you say? Wanna go there after school and look for a good book with me?"

"Yes, of c-course!"

As the second and final lunchtime bell rang, Yuri wondered privately whether she had indeed thrown off the spell of the light that was enveloping her. When their professor entered the classroom, the two of them sat straighter in their seats, but Yuri's mind was not focused on their next class; instead, the thought of going to _Gallagher's_ with Naoki dominated her mental and emotional faculties, and it gave her both hope and excitement.

Four o'clock couldn't arrive fast enough.

* * *

There were quite a few people at _Gallagher's_ when the two of them arrived later that day. A few were buying art and school supplies, while some were browsing through the store's shelves laden with stacks of paperback and hardbound books, either new or used. As the sunset cast downtown in its orange glow, the store's fluorescent lights turned on in anticipation for the onset of the evening. Immediately, the sight of the bookstore's interior and the feeling that she was finally in a place where she belonged put Yuri into a more relaxed mood that counterbalanced the anxiety she was feeling.

Right after class, after his friends had left to go home, Naoki waited for her outside the school's entrance as she stowed away her excess school things at her locker. As she had done so, Yuri began to have second thoughts about going to _Gallagher's_ with him, and she began to wonder whether or not she was already content with their current format of sharing what they've read to one another. She knew that it would be rude to turn down Naoki's suggestion after she had agreed to it just as lunchtime had ended, so she didn't know what else to do but to go with him. It wasn't that she did not like Naoki's company—that would be a blatant lie on her part—but rather it was because she had never gone out to buy books with anyone else keeping her company in her whole life.

Quietly, Yuri followed Naoki to where the books were, and she saw that Naoki was going towards the section marked _HORROR/THRILLER_. As they passed by the shelves, the various colors and titles of the many books on them put Yuri's heart at ease. To others, they may simply be books, both indie works and timeless classics, both Western and Japanese, but for Yuri, they were also portals to different beautiful universes, waiting to be ventured into and lived in as soon as their first pages are turned. The task of choosing an optimal book to read was always an arduous task, and she would take up to an hour at times going back and forth in reading and perusing which book to choose—usually, this ended with her buying multiple books instead, as she felt that she couldn't leave even one of them behind.

This time, however, she stayed silent as Naoki looked at the books, his eyes moving slowly as they swept through one section at a time. The look of thoughtful observation on his face, with the way it put a slight crinkle on his eyebrows, served to make him look even more intellectual and solemn. Yuri marveled inwardly at the focus on his being, which was almost palpable from where she was standing.

She coughed a little in her nervousness, prompting Naoki to snap out of his brooding stance. "Oh, s-sorry about that!" he told her with an apologetic smile. "I think I got carried away reading the titles. . ."

"I-It's okay!" said Yuri. "I hope I didn't d-disturb you. . ."

"No, it's alright, you didn't," said Naoki reassuringly. "Anyway, um, if you spot any books that you'll find interesting, just let me know, hmm?"

"Oh, y-yes, of course!" With that, Yuri averted her gaze from Naoki and turned towards the shelves instead, thankful that her flushed face was no longer in his perspective. Taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves, she began reading book titles alongside him in silence, her eyes moving from one book spine or cover to another.

It didn't take long before she was actually taking down books from the shelves to get a look at their covers and to read the synopses on their backs in detail. Though there were a lot of them that she already had at home—parts of the _Hallowed _series, _Intrepid Vagabonds_, _Blinded by Faith_ and _Laughing at the Shadows_, she always liked seeing them again in bookstores across downtown. Some of them had no plastic covers wrapped around them, so Yuri took some time to open them and let the fresh, clean smell of a new book's pages entice her olfactory senses and mind blissfully. To her, such a smell could always count as a form of stress relief, just as the feel of a hardbound book against her hands and the sounds of pages being turned helped her achieve a peace of mind while reading. It reminded her as well of her reading sessions at home, where she would often have a small cup of oolong tea by her side to help her read comfortably.

So far, there were only three other books that she had not read thus far among the horror and thriller rosters of _Gallagher's_: _Orphan of Elysium_, _Blackdawn_, and a curious new book that caught Yuri's eye—_The Portrait of Markov_. Admittedly, as always, Yuri knew she could buy all three of them and start reading away, but she decided to wait a little for Naoki to finish choosing before saying anything. To help them decide, Naoki took all the books that sparked their interest and placed them side by side onto the shelf with the covers facing them.

"Hmm . . . I think the most interesting one thus far for me is _The Portrait of Markov_," said Naoki. "I mean, I haven't read a few of these, like _Blinded by Faith_ and the fourth _Hallowed _book, but you've read those both already, right?"

"Y-Yes," replied Yuri.

"Have you ever read _The Portrait of Markov_?" asked Naoki.

"Um, n-not yet," said Yuri. "It looks like a new arrival. . ."

"Do you want to go with that?" he said.

"W-Whatever you want is fine w-with me!"

"Ah, but I wanna hear what _you _want as well, of course."

Yuri blushed again and twisted her long hair against her fingers. Though she was indeed fine with any choice Naoki made, she knew that they might be unable to come to a compromise if she didn't answer. Plus, _The Portrait of Markov _seemed really engaging from the synopsis she had read at the back of the book. "Honestly, _The Portrait of Markov _is also what I w-want to try out as well."

Naoki grinned. "_The Portrait of Markov_, it is."

With that, he made to grab the copy of _The Portrait of Markov _from the other books. Obliviously, Yuri reached out to do the same, relieved that their trip here went better than she had expected. Because the two of them reached their hands out simultaneously, however, her hand brushed gently against Naoki's.

The feel of his warm skin making contact with her fingertips surprised her greatly. She pulled her hand back in a flash and accidentally caused a number of other books to fall from the shelf as she knocked them over, the sounds of them echoing loudly in her ears. A few heads in the bookstore turned to look at the noise, and Yuri felt the anxiety in her magnify within seconds. Panicking, she quickly ducked down to begin picking up the books, her breath picking up its pace. Diligently, Naoki knelt down next to her and helped her gather them up.

"I'm really sorry!" Yuri cried out. "I wasn't thinking, I just . . . j-just . . . Oh, I'm really, really s-sorry!"

"No, it's totally fine!" said Naoki. "It's my fault as well, I didn't notice—I mean, I didn't see your hand right away. I'm sorry!"

Though the embarrassment was still there, Yuri was immensely grateful for Naoki's reassurance and help. Soon, there were no more people glancing at them curiously for knocking the books over, and Yuri felt her breathing ease back to normal. To further diffuse the situation, Yuri quickly reached back towards the shelf and took two copies of _The Portrait of Markov_. She held out one towards Naoki, careful not to show how much her hands were shaking.

"Thank you," Naoki mumbled with a nervous grin as he took the book from her.

"Thank you as w-well," Yuri told him. She hugged her copy tightly against her chest, as if trying to stop her heart from bursting free.

Five minutes later, the two of them stepped out into downtown with their respective copies of _The Portrait of Markov _tucked away safely inside their school bags. Evening had set in, and downtown had come to life. The volume of people on the streets and outside buildings had increased slightly, and more cars and other public vehicles drove past.

Naoki turned to face her as they stood on the sidewalk. "Well, looks like we're gonna be kept busy reading tonight!" he said cheerfully. "Makes me wonder what our discussion's gonna be for tomorrow."

Yuri smiled shyly. "I can't wait, actually. . ."

"Me, too." Naoki smiled. "Anyway, how are you gonna be going home? I mean, do you take public transportation, or do you, um, usually walk home?"

"I can walk f-from here," replied Yuri. Her house was indeed only around a five-minute walk away from where _Gallagher's_ was. "How about y-you?"

"It's a longer walk from here, but I'll manage," he told her. "Thanks, Yuri."

"F-For what?" asked Yuri nervously.

"For coming with me here today," replied Naoki. "Take care, okay?"

"You, t-too," she told him timidly.

As Naoki turned and walked away from her, Yuri wanted nothing more than to follow him home and keep talking to him. For now, however, she could only smile to herself as he rounded a corner and was gone from her sight. In spite of everything that had happened at _Gallagher's_, she felt content and excited. Holding on to her school bag tightly, she quickly went in the opposite direction and began walking home.

She knew that she'll be diving into another universe tonight with _The Portrait of Markov_. What made her even happier was the thought that, even as they separated right now, she was heading the same way that Naoki was.


	5. Chapter 5 - Running Forth

**CHAPTER FIVE**** – ****RUNNING FORTH (YuKi)**

"Hey, Naoki, if you're not gonna eat that dumpling, can I have it?" asked Kenta.

"Hmm? Oh, sure, whatever, go ahead," said Naoki absentmindedly as he flipped through another page.

The cafeteria was noisy as usual, but Naoki found that reading through _The Portrait of Markov _somehow drowned out any noise in his hearing. The more he read, the more he became enraptured with the story in a whole new level. It had been almost a week since he'd bought the book alongside Yuri downtown, and though the two of them have been to other bookstores a number of times looking for other novels to buy, they focused extensively on _Markov_. Indeed, even Yuri slowed down her usual pace of quick but intensive reading to digest every little detail in the book, details that the two of them would then debate over before lunchtime ends, as always.

So far, they had only finished one-fourth of the novel—which was relatively shorter than most of the novels Naoki had read—though the plot was as ominous as the eye symbol embossed on the hardbound cover. So far, it relayed the story of Libitina, a teenaged girl who is reunited with her long-lost younger sister only to become targeted later on by a group of sinister individuals. Naoki was starting to become engrossed in the plot, which reminded him of the other horror novels he had read and loved before, but his interest was nothing compared to Yuri's, who was all but mystified by the story even as the conflict for Libitina was just starting.

"Seriously, is the trio starting to fall apart?" Kenta interrupted as he chewed his food. "I mean, we have Daisuke, who's basically running off earlier than usual to go reading with . . . Natsuki, is that her name? Anyway, yeah, we have Daisuke gone, and now we have you sitting here, reading and pretending one of your best buddies isn't even in front of you!"

"Yes, yes," mumbled Naoki.

Kenta frowned. "You're not even listening, are you?"

"Yes, yes."

". . . NaokiFourEyesSaysWhat?"

Naoki looked up. "What?"

Kenta chuckled as he finished his lunch. "Never fails. Anyway, just a time check for you, we still have twenty minutes before class. Your girlfriend Yuri might be back at the classroom already, y'know?"

"She's not my girlfriend, Kenta," said Naoki earnestly, looking back down at _Markov_.

"_There's_ my best friend!" said Kenta gleefully. "And here I thought you were already on some other planet or something. Anyway, I think it'd be better if you two relaxed a bit more before classes instead of talking about that book again. We still have P.E. to take care of later, remember?"

Naoki paused in the middle of flipping a page. "P.E. is today?" he asked.

Kenta grimaced as he pushed his lunch tray aside, jabbing a finger at _The Portrait of Markov_. "That book's starting to mess with the world as we know it. I mean, really, come on, you're the one who usually reminds us about our schedules, right? Is it opposite day? It's not, because it's Wednesday! P.E. day!"

". . . You're absolutely right," said Naoki after a moment's silence. Absorbed as he was in reading _The Portrait of Markov _for the past two days, he had somehow forgotten. "Oh, dear."

Physical Education took up the last two hours of their school day during Wednesdays. Naoki wasn't bothered by it because he had forgotten his P.E. uniform at home or anything—they usually stored their P.E. uniforms and things in their lockers at the start of each week, ready to be used when P.E. classes are held. Instead, Naoki was bothered about Physical Education for Yuri.

They had started the academic year with track and field as their first sport, and while the class had gotten off to a relatively simple start by practicing sprints, Yuri was already lagging behind the rest of them. Naoki knew how terrible Physical Education was for introverts, and even he felt conscious at times when their teacher had asked them to do fifty-meter sprints individually as practice. Yuri, however, had it worse than any of them in class did even during practice sessions because of her timid demeanor and her physical build. Though Naoki tended to avoid dwelling on the latter, it was still part of the truth; Yuri's delicately tall and more refined build was better suited for more graceful activities and not something as vigorous as sports. It was no wonder that she looked rather pale again during their earlier class hours before lunchtime.

When Naoki and Kenta had gone back to their classroom, Yuri still looked very anxious in her seat. Her hands were placed firmly atop her own copy of _The Portrait of Markov_, though they were trembling slightly as well. Her eyes were staring dead ahead, and her lips were moving slightly, as if she was whispering something over and over under her breath. Immediately, Naoki knew that this was not about their upcoming discussion about _The Portrait of Markov_. He looked at Kenta, who nodded with a knowing grin; it was a signal for him to give the two of them some privacy, so he walked off to talk to their other classmates for a while.

Naoki turned back to Yuri. "Um, Yuri?"

Yuri snapped out of her trance and looked at him. "H-Hello!" she said with a small smile.

"Are you okay?" he asked her kindly as he sat down.

"I'm . . . fine," said Yuri. Naoki noted how hard she was trying to steady her voice. "Just a little a-agitated, that's all."

Naoki decided to reassure her by smiling and avoiding talking about their later P.E. class for now. "So, which chapter did you stop at in _Markov_?" he asked.

Yuri glanced downwards at the book, thinking. "The part where June is killed in her house and Libitina finds her corpse," she replied.

"Oh, that would've been a pretty big spoiler if I wasn't at that part yet," said Naoki convivially.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" said Yuri as she glanced up at him, flustered. "I hope I d-didn't spoil anything for you!"

"No, no, it's fine," Naoki assured her. "I'm at that part as well, so no harm done!"

With that, the two of them began sharing what they have picked up so far about _The Portrait of Markov_. Because the two of them were basically neck and neck in terms of how far they have read into the novel, and because the details were fresher in their minds, the discussion was even more profound than their previous ones, particularly in the case of Libitina, with whom Yuri was incredibly fascinated with. Once more, she slipped back into her confident and eloquent self, talking about Libitina with wonder bordering on reverence. Naoki was thankful that their talk was at least causing her anxiety about P.E. to wane. He soon found himself engrossed in wonder once again as well with the way Yuri was speaking so articulately and gracefully, her choice of words belying her demeanor.

This did not last long, however; her fears returned in full force once the first after-lunch bell rang. Knowing that he couldn't let Yuri endure the torment of waiting for their P.E. class alone, he decided to at least begin addressing it.

"Are you, um . . . gonna be okay for P.E. later?" he asked.

Yuri let out a resigned sigh. "Y-Yes," she mumbled.

"I see." Naoki rifled through his mind for proper things to say. "I'm a bit nervous as well."

She looked at him. "You are? B-But . . . you do well in P.E., you and your best f-friend!"

Naoki grinned. "Well, if we're talking about Kenta, then yes, he can beat me and Daisuke at the same time when it comes to anything about sports or athletics. Even Daisuke knows sports better than I do, because I'm not used to it all. One time in middle school, Kenta hit me in the face with a basketball pass because I was too busy thinking about a project while out on the court."

Yuri clapped her hand to her mouth. "How awful!"

"No, no, that was an accident, nothing intentional or anything!" Naoki quickly added. "I mean, well, I'm still best friends with Kenta, right? Anyway, that just goes to show that I do have my less-than-fine moments in P.E. like everyone else. I am doing better, but it's only a matter of time before another klutzy moment happens. Regarding track and field, I wouldn't be surprised if I end up tripping on my own two feet in the near future because I got distracted again."

He laughed, though Yuri didn't—she still looked a bit perturbed. "Anyway, I know you'll do just fine, Yuri," he went on. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Are you s-sure?" asked Yuri timidly.

"I'm sure," said Naoki reassuringly. "After all, think about it. You've passed all of your P.E. subjects from elementary school to the present, even when you felt nervous every time a P.E. class was held, right? It's alright to feel jittery. Before you know it, the class is over, and you'll suddenly realize that you were worrying about something that wasn't that difficult to begin with."

"I see," said Yuri. "Maybe I am just m-making things bigger than they actually are. I'm . . . I'm sorry for worrying t-too much, then. . ."

"Ah, no, it's okay, Yuri!" Naoki cried out hastily. "I didn't mean to tell you that being worried or nervous is bad or anything. It's like what I've told you before. If you feel nervous, you don't have to feel alone, because I'm right here being nervous with you, even if it may not be that obvious."

He smiled at her again, another gesture of encouragement that he knew she needed. To his slight surprise, Yuri smiled back a little this time.

* * *

The school's field was stirred by a light afternoon breeze, providing relief as Naoki warmed up with stretches and jumping jacks along with the rest of his classmates. Other year levels that were holding their own P.E. classes for the afternoon were doing so in the school gymnasium, leaving 3-C to occupy the open field alone.

Beside him, Kenta stretched his toned arms with relish, pawing the ground with his feet like a gritty bull set to gore down a hapless matador. Physical Education classes were one of the few times that he shone the brightest, being one of the most sports-inclined among their entire year even if he belonged to no official sports team in the school. There was a gleam of focus and competitiveness in his opal-colored eyes that Naoki knew all too well, a gleam that shone whenever Kenta was in his element.

In stark contrast, Yuri looked diminished from where she was standing, which was a few feet away from Naoki. Clad in the standard P.E. attire of a white shirt and blue shorts, with white sneakers for footwear and navy blue arm sleeves as add-ons, her developed figure seemed to radiate a different aura, almost less elegant compared to how she looked in her school uniform. She stretched her graceful arms rather halfheartedly, and Naoki could see her brilliant amethyst-like eyes tinged with a renewed surge of anxiety. Though she was not alone in disliking their P.E. classes, Naoki could practically feel how much she wanted to be anywhere except on the open field right now.

Once the warm-up routines were done, 3-C stood at attention as their P.E. teacher began specifying their activities for the day: individual fifty-meter sprints for each member of the class, all graded depending on a student's running form and speed. Expectantly, a few from 3-C began limbering up more where they stood, including Kenta. Some, like Naoki, merely nodded as they listened to the instructions, while some were looking rather nervous at the prospect of being graded based on how fast they can run, with Yuri among them. Thankfully, their teacher assured them that the lowest grade given to the slowest runners will be a C, eliciting sighs of relief from some. As they listened to additional notes about proper running form and guidelines for the sprint, Naoki spared another glance at Yuri. She appeared to turn paler with every word their teacher was uttering as she clasped her hands together.

With that, their teacher called out. "First five people that want to go first, speak up. After them, it'll be the rest of you lot in random order. After you run, just walk towards me, and I'll tell you what grade you got. Like I said, the lowest grade anyone will get today is a C since we're not looking for qualifiers for the track team, but that doesn't mean you're gonna just walk those fifty meters by, understood? In thirty minutes, I'll be leaving for a meeting, so the class officers will be in charge of timing the rest who haven't run yet to keep things going. I'll be back before class ends so that these people will see their grades. So, who's gonna go first?"

As expected, Kenta was among the first five to volunteer. Once they had stepped forth and were listed accordingly, the class made its way to one end of the open field. A red field marker was set down on one spot to pinpoint the finish line for the would-be runners. After final instructions were given, the first five runners lined up at the starting point. Some distance away from the starting line, so as to get a better view of both sides of fifty meters, their teacher stood by with a stopwatch and clipboard at the ready.

Naoki stood back and watched with the rest of the class as the first five raced off towards the marker one at a time, each waiting their turn as their teacher finished jotting down their time and grade onto his clipboard. Despite not being the fastest, Kenta managed to earn an A for himself, a feat which he acknowledged by puffing out his chest proudly and grinning at his classmates as he rejoined them. Once the first five were all done, their teacher started calling out the rest of 3-C to continue everything.

It wasn't long before it was Naoki's turn. Diligently, he jogged over to the starting point as soon as his name was called. Kenta clapped him hard on the shoulder as a gesture of good luck. Once there, he limbered up and breathed readily, rubbing the soles of his white-and-blue sneakers against the open field's grassy dirt. He looked over to their teacher, who had his arm raised in the air, waiting for him to finish getting ready.

As soon as the arm went down, Naoki bolted forward, his eyes fixed on the marker that served as the finish line. Soon, most of the class's noise behind him receded, and his sneakers kicked up both dirt and dust as he ran. His glasses bounced up and down on the bridge of his nose, but they had to stay there—his poorer eyesight won't do any good against a wayward rock or lump of dirt on the field. Despite the overall simplicity of a fifty-yard sprint, the effort soon had him digging deeper and deeper for breath every time his feet landed on the ground, breathing through his nostrils and not through his mouth so as to avoid tiring out more easily. It was soon over before he knew it, though, as the red marker flitted past him from the corner of his eye. Naoki bolted forward for a few more paces before slowing down, taking in nourishing breaths of air as he placed his hands on his hips and kicked his legs to shake off much of the strain.

After a few seconds of rest, he jogged lightly back towards the class, slowing down as he passed by their P.E. teacher, who gave him an approving nod as he finished writing on his clipboard. "Just shy of eight seconds, that's a B for you. Nice work, Nakajima."

"Thank you, sir," replied Naoki, pleased with the result of his efforts.

Half of the class had finished their graded sprints when their teacher left for the meeting. In his place, as he had instructed before, the 3-C class officers were charged with timing the rest of the sprinters, with the class president writing down their time on their teacher's clipboard. Those who were finished soon started chatting as they sat down on some of the benches near the field, while the more playful ones began monkeying around. Naoki decided to stand by and watch the rest of the runners along with Kenta, who had taken his place next to the class officers and was barking orders like a drill sergeant.

"Keep those elbows at right angles! Short strides, not long ones! Keep that speed up, this ain't jogging, people! Now drop and give me twenty!"

"Kenta, come on, man, let us do our job in peace!" said their class president as the other officers sniggered.

"I will not have backtalk in my squadron, maggot! You may outrank me in the classroom, but I got an A earlier, so I outrank you out here for today!"

Naoki chuckled with the rest of them as Kenta continued this verbal duel with glee, putting a slight delay into the class proceedings. It was only when Yuri's name was called that they became relatively silent. Naoki sensed that it was because of Yuri's introvert aura that made others keep quiet whenever she was involved, whether out of curiosity or simple respect. She stepped forth onto the starting point, her hands clasped against her chest. She was looking at the ground, her long flowing hair forming a curtain around her anxious face. After a few seconds of staring at the length of the open field, she looked nervously at the class officers.

Their class president mumbled, "Do you think she'll be able to handle this? She didn't look too good last week."

"I'm sure," said Naoki with a smile.

"Should I get you some pompoms so that you can cheer her on, Naoki?" asked Kenta jokingly.

Naoki ignored him. "Are you gonna be okay, Yuri?" he called out to her.

Yuri glanced towards him upon hearing his voice. She shifted nervously in her place, giving a small nod. "Ready when you are, Yuri!" their class president cried out.

Timidly but diligently, Yuri nodded again as she knelt down to assume the takeoff stance that was taught to them. Unlike most of their female classmates with long hair, Yuri never tied up her hair in a ponytail even for P.E., causing her face to become shrouded as she prepared to take off. Naoki saw her look up a little to signal that she was ready, though her face looked anything but sure about all this—she was still pale.

As a last-second attempt to inspire her, Naoki cried out, "You've got this, Yuri!"

Yuri took one more look at him, and Naoki could sense that she smiled a little.

Like their teacher had done, their class president brought his arm up, held it in the air for a second, and swung it back down.

Yuri took off. For a moment, her starting speed appeared relatively slower compared to most of their classmates', but her running form was good in Naoki's eyes. Her arms were bent at right angles and her long legs took short but strong strides, following the guidelines their teacher had been giving for the past two weeks in preparation for today. Unlike what he had done with the rest of the class thus far, Kenta chose to remain silent instead of shouting as they watched Yuri sprint, presumably to not cause her any embarrassment at Naoki's unspoken behest. As she passed by, Yuri's hair was swept backwards by her momentum, and Naoki was rather surprised to see how _determined _she suddenly looked—and how quickly she was picking up speed. There was a fierce gleam in her purple eyes, and her worried look was now combated by an aura of concentration. It lent her elegance and mystery a whole new appearance, and Naoki's smile only grew as Yuri came closer to the marker within seconds. With a bit of relief, he knew that Yuri had successfully made it past another day of P.E.

All that was disturbed, however, when Yuri suddenly tripped from a misstep just as she passed by the red marker, her momentum causing her to stumble and fall almost face down onto the ground. Naoki's smile vanished, replaced by a look of mild shock. Kenta and their others groaned a little at the sight. Behind them, the others also noticed Yuri stumble, and though some of them fell silent, a few began muttering and buzzing excitedly.

Yuri lay unmoving where she had fallen for a few seconds, her hair obscuring her face. "Yuri!" Naoki called out to her.

With an obvious effort, Yuri stood up, not looking back at Naoki or the rest of 3-C as she did so. She was panting raggedly, her shoulders trembling a little. Without warning, she ducked her head and ran again—this time towards the school gymnasium—before anyone else could say or do anything. Naoki watched her go, his concern growing.

"I hope she's alright," said their class president as they watched her dart behind the gymnasium and out of sight. "Someone should go check on her."

"I'll do it," said Naoki firmly.

* * *

Though there were no people around when she darted past the walls of the gymnasium and the shower rooms next to it, Yuri could feel a million pairs of eyes boring into her as she ran, and a million invisible mouths laughing and whispering earlier at the sight of her stumbling into the dirt of the open field. At that point, she no longer cared if she was given an F for her performance. She only desperately wanted to get home, cover herself with her blankets in her bed, and will the day to end. There were moments like this before in her life, and this one was no different—it made her feel helpless and small, a laughingstock, someone to be mocked and disdained. She sat down on the covered walkway behind the gymnasium, leaning against the walls as soon as she knew that she was out of sight and hearing.

The fall hurt rather badly; she landed on her stomach and chest, and the pain was only starting to go away as she sat there to rest and recover. Dirt had stained her shirt, shorts and legs, and she could feel how gritty her face was from the mixture of dust and sweat on her brow and cheeks. Yuri miserably began patting herself clean with her hands, fearing that if she went out to wash herself in the shower room, someone would walk by and laugh at the sight of her dirtied countenance.

It took her a few more moments to realize that she had hurt her right knee. A small but bloody scratch was there, peppered with a bit of dirt from the field. Though she knew that she needed to wash it immediately, Yuri stared at the sight of her blood intently, the crimson color pulling her into a sort of trance. Gingerly, she touched the wound and gasped a little as it stung, but the pain felt rather . . . stirring, as if she had been suddenly doused with cold water to the face. When she pulled her hand back, she stared at the blood that had gotten onto her fingertips.

_What am I doing? Not now. Please. Not now_.

And yet, in spite of these thoughts, Yuri extended her fingers again towards her wound. A soft gasp escaped her lips as the pain surfaced once again. More blood got onto her fingers, glistening wetly in the afternoon light when she looked at her hand once more. As she stared, her heart began beating faster—not from anxiety, but from a desire to be relieved of the embarrassment she had experienced earlier.

_The pain. It helps._

_It always helps._

Slightly ashamed, Yuri tried to touch the wound on her knee for a third time, but she found herself balking at the thought. Instead, she gripped her left forearm very tightly. This time, a sharper pain coursed through her being, and it was all Yuri could do not to gasp loudly as she did so, the stinging sensation purging her mind for a moment. It felt like she was plunged into a blank but tranquil world, vastly different from the universes she had visited in her books. It was a world that she sporadically visited, and yet it was almost as comforting as the ones where her fictional friends lived in. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing more calmly now as the pain on her forearm synced with her thoughts and slowly spirited her away to this world.

Not for long. "Yuri?"

Startled, Yuri released her grip on her forearm. She looked around to see Naoki standing a few feet away from her, evidently concerned, a bottle of water in his hand. _How long was he standing there? _Yuri surreptitiously wiped her fingers against her arm sleeves, her heart beating faster than ever.

"Are you okay?" asked Naoki.

"Y-Yes, I'm fine. I just hurt my k-knee." Guilt and shame crept into Yuri's heart, as if she had been caught doing something vile or obscene. Naoki, however, did not seem to have noticed anything as he smiled. Perhaps from his perspective, it may have just looked like she was caressing her forearm once again.

Naoki's eyes shifted towards the wound on her knee. "Have you washed that yet? That needs cleaning up pronto."

"Not yet," Yuri admitted. "I was g-going to go and do so in a moment."

"That's good," said Naoki. "Anyway, I got you a bottle of water. You can rest here for a while, and I'll keep you company while we wait for everyone else to finish. Good thing you're done with your sprint."

"B-But I stumbled!"

"As soon as you finished running, not before. Besides, you got a B based from what I heard. I knew you could do it!"

Yuri stared as Naoki smiled comfortingly, holding out the water bottle towards her. She felt startled again, both from the fact that she had managed to earn a B instead of an expected C, and from Naoki's compliment. Slowly, she took the water bottle with a word of thanks and drank quietly. When she felt that she had drunk enough, she poured the remaining water onto her wound to clean it a little, careful not to hiss out loud as the wound stung. As she was doing so, Naoki sat down opposite her, leaning against a metal pillar that supported the walkway's roof. As the silence stretched, Yuri's thoughts went back towards her little accident.

"That was truly humiliating," she murmured dejectedly.

"No, Yuri, it's okay," said Naoki, sitting up straighter. "It was an accident, and accidents happen to the best of us."

"I know, but . . ." Yuri gripped the water bottle so tightly that the plastic crackled. She sighed. "I guess the universe decided that I'm to be the one who will trip on her own two feet today. . ."

Naoki sighed along with her. "Yuri," he began, but she cut him off.

"I could hear them . . . laughing at me. . ." _The voices. The eyes._

"Yuri, no one was laughing at you!" Naoki cried out. "Not even Kenta. We were all just . . . caught off guard because we didn't expect it to happen."

Yuri shook her head, forlorn. "I'm s-sorry."

"Don't be. It was an accident," Naoki repeated. "We're just glad that you're alright. _I'm _glad that you're alright."

She looked up at him once again, staring deep into his grey eyes. Naoki looked firm in what he had said, the familiar crease in his brows giving him his handsome aura of scholarly bearing in spite of the P.E. uniform he was wearing. Yuri wondered what exactly it was that drove Naoki to sympathize with her all the time. His kind words, his understanding, his patience, all these were rather alien aspects to her. Only her books seemed to empathize with her the same way that Naoki was, and it touched her greatly.

"You know, I never got to say this earlier, and it might be a bit silly, but . . ." Naoki smiled a little. "You remind me a little of Libitina."

Yuri felt struck. "W-What made you s-say that?" she stammered.

Naoki shrugged. "Well, the way she second-guesses what she says or does, like she's afraid of doing something wrong . . . that's rather reminiscent of you and your mannerisms."

Yuri was silent for a few moments before answering. It felt as if Naoki had finally spoken the truth about what he really thought of her, the truth that he should have spoken since the first time they met haphazardly in the school corridor. She felt crestfallen. "B-But . . . Naoki, that's actually a t-terrible thing to have in common with her! It's . . . It's rather embarrassing for me if you think of it t-that way. . ."

"Ah, no, Yuri, I didn't mean it like that, of course!" said Naoki quickly. "I'm sorry. I just meant that . . . I know we're not that far into the novel yet, and it's not like I can read into your head or anything, but . . . well, Libitina's flaws make her intriguing as much as her strengths do, and that's what makes her a fascinating character. She's not one-sided, and she's definitely not horrible just because she has moments of weakness like the rest of us. The same goes for you."

Yuri was dumbstruck. Naoki had told her something similar before, she knew, but to actually compare her to a fictional character as interesting and captivating in her eyes as Libitina . . . it was a form of praise that Yuri did not expect from anyone. True enough, Libitina did have her lapses and failures, but like Natasha before her in _Laughing at the Shadows_, she was a character that Yuri felt really drawn to in spite of this. Trapped in a crisis stemming from a conflict that she can only vaguely remember, Libitina struggles to fight in a world where she initially thinks she belongs in, discovering aspects about herself that she didn't know she had while holding off her own personal demons. To hear someone like Naoki compare her objectively to Libitina was . . .

A cough startled the two of them out of their discussion. Yuri and Naoki looked around to see Kenta standing several feet away from them.

"Uh, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything, but everyone else is done. Class should be over in a few minutes, we just gotta wait for our dear old educator to return." He nodded at her. "You alright there, Yuri?"

"O-Oh, yes, I'm fine!" said Yuri politely. "Thank you for asking."

Kenta grinned. "Hope my buddy Naoki there helped you out a lot. Anyway, I'll be going back now. You two should be going as well."

With a last nod, he turned around and left. Naoki stood up now, prompting Yuri to stand up as well. "You can go clean up that wound in the comfort room before we get back. I'll help you go to the school clinic after class," he stated amiably.

"Ah, no need!" Yuri cried out quickly as she dumped the empty water bottle she was holding in a nearby trash can. "I'll m-manage everything after class. I'm feeling okay now."

"Are you sure?"

Yuri looked straight again into Naoki's eyes. In spite of everything that had happened earlier, she really did felt better. Her rising heartbeat, however, was causing her to instinctively move her hand towards her left forearm for another tight grip. She stopped just as her fingertips touched her arm sleeve, wondering if she should do it.

"Yes. Y-You've helped me a lot already, and I truly appreciate that."

Naoki smiled. "I'm just glad that I could help."

Yuri paused, lost in Naoki's grey eyes. After considering for a moment, she smiled back as she eased her hand away from her forearm. "Thank you."


	6. Chapter 6 - People Trying

**CHAPTER SIX**** – ****PEOPLE TRYING (NatSuke)**

Daisuke smiled at his reflection in the mirror, feeling extra jaunty today. Even as their schoolwork had begun piling up over the last month, he found that the time he spent with Natsuki every day was helping him cope a lot with academics. Their manga-reading sessions had only grown since their second day at school, and Daisuke didn't mind having some extra homework in the form of brushing up on what was now Act 2 in _Parfait Girls_; it helped preserve his sanity in between pop quizzes and an ever-increasing load of assignments.

With a final glance at the mirror, Daisuke left the boys' comfort room and made his way into the school grounds, towards one of the many stone benches that sat underneath the school's decorative roster of trees and plants. This was where he and Natsuki had decided to start meeting every day since last week to prevent other students from getting bothered at them occupying a major staircase all the time just to read manga. Though Natsuki seemed rather unsure of the idea at first—mainly due to the sheer number of students who walk around the school grounds during lunchbreak—Daisuke had managed to convince her once they found a relatively quiet spot.

As usual, Natsuki was there before him, staring rather somberly at nothing in particular. Daisuke's brow furrowed at the sight of her expression; she had been like that all morning, and while Daisuke wanted to know exactly what was up with her, he had refrained from asking. The past weeks he had spent with Natsuki had taught him a lot of things about her, from the way she brushed off any topics about herself to the way she would scold him for mixing up characters in _Parfait Girls_. It was why Daisuke had taken extra time and effort to follow the manga more diligently, and in spite of Natsuki's occasional scolding, he enjoyed the manga as much as he enjoyed reading with her. At times, Natsuki would even start warming up to their discussions, and those were the moments that made Daisuke happiest about their sessions.

Natsuki, meanwhile, had taken up the offer of reading one of Daisuke's favorite manga as well: _Band Fist Revolution_, a story of five high-school students who wished to score big in the music industry by creating their own band before they graduated. Natsuki had personally chosen the manga because of its slice-of-life and shoujo-like elements, and Daisuke was more than happy to oblige in lending the manga to her, knowing that those themes were major parts of Natsuki's manga-reading comfort zones. Though he didn't pressure her to read the manga attentively in the same way she dictated him with _Parfait Girls_, it warmed his heart to know that she was enjoying the manga, based from a sullen confession she had made last week.

Natsuki was looking around the school grounds as she waited for him. "Hello!" he called out as he approached. Natsuki merely nodded back when she saw him; next to her on the bench were the first chapter of _Parfait Girls_' second act and the seventh issue of _Band Fist Revolution_. She moved them aside as Daisuke sat down.

"So," she said quietly. "You've started the second act already, right?"

"Yep," replied Daisuke. "Really wanted to see what would happen after Yukari caught Minori with Tomo on their date. How about you? Which part are you on in _Band Fist_?"

Natsuki looked uncomfortable. "I think I was at that part where Aito and Hikaru are fighting. I don't know, I don't remember that much, alright?"

Though he was rather surprised at the way Natsuki snapped a little, Daisuke decided to let the matter be. "Ah, I see," he said with a nod. "Well, we'd better not waste any time, hmm? So who goes first?"

The way they read manga in the past month had been by taking turns. One would go first by reading their chosen manga while the other person would read along. Daisuke knew that Natsuki enjoyed this part of their session so much, especially since she got to both point out any hidden jokes or gags that Daisuke did not immediately notice, and re-enjoy the funny parts that she had forgotten after not reading a certain issue for so long. Daisuke returned this gesture by guiding her towards certain parts and scenes in _Band Fist Revolution_, and he helped her remember certain characters that looked or acted alike.

Today, however, it appeared that Natsuki was in no such mood to take turns reading. "Let's just read in silence, okay?" she said. "That way, we'll be able to cover more ground before lunchtime ends. Besides, it's not like we have a lot of time every day to do all this."

Daisuke raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Well, it's usually more fun if we take turns like we normally do, but . . . if you insist," he said with a shrug.

With that, he picked up _Parfait Girls _and waited for Natsuki to do so with _Band Fist Revolution_. When she had reluctantly done so, he smiled, opened up to where he had left off, and started reading. Beside him, Natsuki began reading as well, but with her back turned to him.

For the next five minutes, Daisuke laughed and smiled to himself as he read. So far, though he hadn't mentioned it to Natsuki yet, his favorite character was Yukari, the tomboyish perfectionist among the manga's colorful roster of girls, while Natsuki's came as a bit of surprise—Minori, the main protagonist if the girls had any, and the clumsiest and bubbliest of the group. Daisuke thought that someone like Yukari—who resembled Natsuki in his eyes—would be her favorite character, though he knew better than to contest Natsuki's opinion. Occasionally, he'd punctuate their reading with a few questions, though Natsuki would only end up answering them with terse replies, her tone growing more irritable with each word.

A particular scene soon caused Daisuke to chuckle a bit louder—Yukari chasing Tomo around their café for making Minori cry. Quite suddenly, he heard Natsuki ask sharply, "What's so funny?"

"Oh, it's just this part," said Daisuke. "The one where Yukari's—"

"Just keep it down, okay?" Natsuki snapped. "I'm trying to read here!"

And with that, silence fell. Again, Daisuke was taken aback at Natsuki's demeanor for the day, but he decided to follow her wishes and kept his laughs down to completely silent smiles and suppressed chuckles. As he read, however, he couldn't help but feel that Natsuki was listening or watching him out of the corner of her eye instead of reading _Band Fist Revolution_. Concern started distracting Daisuke now as he wondered just what was happening to Natsuki to cause her to act like this. Within a few moments, he heard her ranting again—this time towards his manga.

"Ugh, really?" she murmured. "Hikaru already explained himself to you ingrates! He does everything for the band and you throw him under the bus like that?! Some friends you are, like a lot of people I know. . ."

Daisuke raised his eyebrows in surprise. He sensed that somehow, in her sullen mood today, Natsuki didn't even notice that she was ranting in his hearing. Natsuki, on the other hand, kept going on tirades for a few more moments, nitpicking this time about a few of the characters' reasons and sentiments as they interacted with Hikaru.

"Oh, really, Aito? So you don't remember the time that Hikaru helped you get back up on your feet after you flopped during that audition, you ungrateful jerk? And don't tell me that you have the best interests of the band in mind, Madoka, when it's obvious you're just doing this to suck up to Aito!"

Natsuki continued in this vein as Daisuke half-listened. Inwardly, he marveled at the idea of how Natsuki bonded with the characters in a manga that she read—another testament to her intense love for manga-reading. As her rants grew more irascible, however, Daisuke soon began to wonder whether or not this was already a good stopping point for her. He glanced up at the large clock tower that their school had and saw that they still had around fifteen minutes of reading before classes resumed for the day. As he went back to reading _Parfait Girls_, however, he heard a faint plop next to him, prompting him to look around.

His issue of _Band Fist Revolution _had fallen to the ground, but Natsuki was making no move to pick it back up. Daisuke frowned a little, wondering if she had suddenly fallen asleep while reading, but his curiosity turned into apprehension when he saw that Natsuki was starting to breathe more harshly. _What the heck? Is she crying or something?_

In a flash, he quickly closed _Parfait Girls _and reached out, gently placing his hand on Natsuki's shoulder. "N-Natsuki?" he said softly.

Natsuki, however, twisted so abruptly that he immediately let go of her. "_Don't touch me!_" she cried out angrily. "I'm . . . I'm fine, okay?!"

It didn't take a lot for Daisuke to know that she was lying. He stood up and walked in front of her, kneeling down to take a look at her face. Though Natsuki tried turning away again, Daisuke already saw that she was growing pale, with beads of sweat forming on her forehead and neck. Her eyes looked pained and glazed, giving the impression that she would pass out at any moment. Indeed, it seemed to look that way as Natsuki swayed dangerously, only stopping when her shoulder rested on the bench they had been sitting on.

Immediately, Daisuke grasped her at the arms to prevent her from falling over. Natsuki feebly began fighting back, trying to writhe free of Daisuke's grip. She yelled, "Let g-go! Let go of me . . . ! I said I'm alright, you s-stupid—!"

"Natsuki, you're not alright!" Daisuke said insistently. The way her words slurred a little alarmed him even further. "What's wrong with you?"

"_Nothing!_" screamed Natsuki. "I s-said I'm . . . I'm . . ."

But her voice soon faded off as she gasped. Every effort she made to struggle and yell seemed to weaken her even further. Daisuke's mind raced furiously, wondering whether the noontime heat had gotten to her, or whether she was suddenly growing ill. Then again, even at high noon, the sun hadn't been visible from behind cloud cover, and based on the feeling beneath his hands as he held her, Natsuki's arms didn't seem to be burning up from fever or any other type of sickness. The only logical conclusion that Daisuke could come up with was—

"Natsuki, did you eat lunch today?"

He had asked her so because, now that he looked back on it, he had never seen Natsuki eat that day. Usually, he would arrive at their current spot and see her eating like she always did back at her former spot on the staircase, with a small brown paper bag sitting next to her. As Daisuke glanced around now, however, he saw no paper bag, and neither did he seem to remember Natsuki exiting their classroom at lunchtime holding one.

When Natsuki didn't answer, Daisuke asked more insistently, "Natsuki, did you eat _anything_ today?"

"What do you care?!" Natsuki retorted.

After a brief pause, Daisuke made up his mind. "Stay there!"

Without waiting for a reply, he quickly ran back towards the school and began looking for the vending machines near the cafeteria. To his immense relief, he saw from a distance that there was no one around them, so Daisuke had a clear path on his way there. He took out his wallet and thanked the heavens further that he had a few coins ready for use. He spent them all up on a variety of snacks—two small bags of crisps, two cookies and a protein bar—and bolted back out to where Natsuki was within five minutes.

Natsuki had not left the bench—whether that was because of her weakened state or because she waited for him, Daisuke could not guess at the moment. He sat down hurriedly next to her and held out a cookie. "Here, eat this, it'll help," he said earnestly.

"I don't want to!" said Natsuki. Her face had grown even paler in his absence.

"You won't last long today without eating," he beseeched her. "You h-have to—"

"Go away! S-Scram! I don't need your h-help!" She swatted his hand away, and the cookie fell to the ground. Daisuke quickly picked it up and dusted it off, thankful for the plastic wrap around it.

"Natsuki, you might collapse at any moment if you don't eat!" he remarked. "You can eat just enough so that you'll be able to get back on your feet for the rest of the day!"

"I said I don't want your help, you jerk!" she yelled. "I never wanted anyone's help! Just go back to class before I punch you in your fa—"

"_Natsuki, please!"_

The words rang loud and clear, prompting a few students in the distance to look around at them. Even Daisuke startled himself with the way his voice sounded so frantic. Natsuki, on the other hand, stared at him intently, her eyes still wearing that pained expression and her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Daisuke decided to tone his voice down a little, but he kept the imploring tone in it.

"P-Please, Natsuki," he said softly. "I know you're starving, and I can't . . . I can't let you continue the day without eating anything."

Natsuki sighed, attempting to look grumpy. Instead, she only managed to look even feebler. "No," she replied shortly.

"You _have to eat_," he told her persuasively.

". . . Why?" she asked testily.

Daisuke sighed. "Do you think I want to watch a friend go through something like this and not do anything about it?"

The expression behind Natsuki's eyes softened somewhat. What little anger remained on her weakened face vanished abruptly, causing her to appear even frailer in his eyes. Daisuke looked at her seriously. He couldn't bear to smile, not even to acknowledge the fact that she had relaxed her stance towards him at the moment. Once again, he held out the cookie he had been offering her. "I'm going to stay here with you until you eat. I don't care if we miss class in the process, and I absolutely don't care if you punch me in the face right now. I can't let you get on with the day like this."

A ringing silence followed his words. He gazed very intently into Natsuki's eyes, wondering just how serious he looked right now to make Natsuki stop talking. Natsuki blinked a few times. While she never broke the gaze, she also didn't show any signs of moving. Wishing to take some of the sting out of his words and expression, Daisuke stopped frowning and bowed his head with a dejected sigh, wondering if his stare was causing her to balk.

Not long after, he heard a small sob. He looked back up quickly and saw that tears were trickling down Natsuki's cheeks. Her lip was quivering, and her body started shaking as she sniffled and wept even more. Not knowing what to do, Daisuke set down the snacks he was holding on his place at the bench and hurried in front of her, kneeling down as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"N-Natsuki?" he whispered. "I'm sorry, I—"

"No, d-don't be!" Natsuki's voice came out as a wounded whimper. "I'm . . . I'm just. . ."

"J-Just what?" asked Daisuke.

Natsuki bowed her head and began sobbing even more. "I'm just h-having a . . . a really b-bad day today. . . And I d-didn't mean to . . . take it out . . . on y-you. I really . . . really d-didn't mean to. . ."

Daisuke was speechless. The way Natsuki spoke, the bitterness in her voice, and the sight of her breaking down in tears, everything tugged at his heart in one quick pang. He didn't know whether to ask her about it or to leave her be or to offer what little comfort he could. It made him feel helpless.

Natsuki continued tearfully, "Every day . . . Every s-single day . . . is so hard . . . I don't . . . know what to d-do sometimes anymore. . . I just want to c-come to school and . . . a-and . . ."

Her voice broke off, giving way to more angry sobs. Daisuke stared at her, the sympathy in his heart for her growing with each passing second. In spite of the treatment he had received from her earlier, he felt perfectly fine with all of it, especially now that he knew that there was a reason behind it all. Though he still had a plethora of questions to ask her about what she was going through, Daisuke knew that there was nothing he could do but cheer Natsuki up in the only way he knew how. Wordlessly, he stood up, took back the snacks and the _Parfait Girls _volume he had been reading, and knelt down before her once again.

"You know, reading _Parfait Girls _all alone isn't as fun as reading it with you," he said kindly. "Sometimes, I can't help but feel that I'm missing out on a few of the gags and tidbits they have in the background, and . . . who better to help me with that than you, right?"

Natsuki looked sullenly up at him, her pink eyes sparkling with tears. "W-What are you saying?" she murmured.

"Well. . ." said Daisuke as he picked up his fallen copy of _Band Fist Revolution _and set it aside on the bench. Carefully, he placed down the _Parfait Girls _copy atop it. "All I'm saying is that reading in silence just doesn't have the same vibe as you reading along next to me. That's why I'm going to ask if you wanna spend the rest of lunchtime showing me what's in store for the girls on Act 2.

"But first, of course, you need to eat." Daisuke nodded his head towards the snacks he was holding. "You can eat while we read, and you can even talk with your mouth full. I don't mind," he added with a grin.

Another staredown ensued for a few moments. Daisuke began wishing desperately that his words didn't sound too silly or halfhearted; Natsuki needed more than that at the moment, and he didn't want to make her feel worse.

Instead of taking any of the snacks, however, Natsuki began crying again. Daisuke saw her hands ball up into fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Immediately, Daisuke wondered whether he had said something wrong, but Natsuki spoke up in between her sobs.

"You're . . . really nice to me. . . I feel h-horrible now. . . F-For the way I've been treating y-you earlier. . ."

"Ah, no, it's okay!" Daisuke cried out quickly. "It's fine with me, alright? There's no need to feel bad about it. I'm not angry at you or anything, see? Now, if it's okay with you, you have to start eating, alright? Reading should never be done on an empty stomach!"

With that, he held out the cookie that he had been offering all the while towards her. Breathing more evenly now, as if she was trying to control her tears, Natsuki held out her hand and silently took it from him. Almost immediately, she tore off its wrapper and began nibbling at it hungrily. Feeling immense relief at the sight of her eating now, Daisuke set down the other snacks next to her and sat back down on his spot on the bench. In less than twenty seconds, Natsuki was done with the cookie, and she went for the other snacks eagerly. Daisuke patiently watched her eat. It did not take long before Natsuki began wiping away her tears and the sweat on her brow with her hand as she ate, and color began returning to her face.

"I can buy you something to drink when we get back," he told her. "We still have a bit of time before classes start."

He had not finished speaking, however, when he felt his cellphone vibrate from within his pants' pocket. Daisuke took it out and saw that he had received a group message from their class president, a message that immediately put another smile on his face:

"_hello guys, we got us a free period, Prof. Tanaka not holding classes after lunch, no sub, just be back by 2PM_"

Daisuke chuckled, prompting Natsuki to look up as she was eating. "What are you laughing about now . . . ?" she asked.

"We got us a bit more time to read for today, it seems," he replied.

* * *

With an extra hour under their belt, Daisuke continued reading with Natsuki, who soon eased back into her normal self. Though her eyes were still a bit red from crying, she had regained her energy and strength after she had eaten everything Daisuke had gotten for her. As an added measure, Daisuke went back inside the school to get her a bottle of mineral water, just as he had promised. All the while, Natsuki avoided looking at him, though she soon got past that when they started reading Act 2 of _Parfait Girls _together. Soon, the two of them were laughing and debating and pointing out clever jokes and scenes once again.

"Tomo's a big idiot for thinking that he could go out with Kanae without making Minori feel bad about it," said Natsuki. "Really dense of him to do that. And to think he assured Minori that everything's fine between the two of them! I really wanted Yukari to stomp a new one into his head when he got caught."

"But personally, though, I think Yukari likes Tomo as well," Daisuke offered. "I mean, she has that typical _tsundere _arc going for her, and maybe she's just hiding it under her rough and superior aura, you know?"

Natsuki frowned. "You'd better watch your guesses, or else you'll be figuring out too much of the plot already before you even get there, and that's no fun at all!"

Daisuke grinned. "Well, that's what makes me enjoy reading it."

When they had finished the first issue of Act 2, there was still half an hour left before their classes resumed. Because other students had no free period like they did, the school grounds became a perfect reading place for them thanks to the peace and quiet. Now, it was Daisuke's turn to watch and speak as Natsuki continued reading _Band Fist Revolution_. Daisuke took this time to ask her about what he had heard during her rants earlier, particularly about Madoka the keyboard player, Aito the bassist, and Hikaru, the band's leader and vocalist. Natsuki's favorite character came as no surprise for him.

"Hikaru's doing his best, and they're still trying to blame him for how disastrous their gig turned out!" Natsuki huffed. "He made some mistakes, I'll give them that, but everyone else did, right? It's really unfair for the others to think everything was his fault!"

"I completely agree," said Daisuke. His own favorite character was the band's comically oblivious but incredibly talented drummer, Junpei, whom Natsuki didn't like much because of his hippie-like nature and his tendency to ignore conflict. Daisuke decided not to mention him for now. "I know a lot of people who'd do what Aito and Madoka are doing. It kinda turned me off when they did that."

"Ugh, people can be really stupid and unappreciative sometimes," Natsuki hissed. "It just makes me really angry when they're as bad as some of the people I know in real life."

"I understand," Daisuke told her. Her words made him wonder again about the meaning behind what she had said earlier when she had been crying. Privately, a feeling of protectiveness began creeping into him as he also imagined who was giving Natsuki such a bad day that she ended up not eating anything for a school day. For now, however, he just settled with reading and having fun with her, content that he had managed to help her recover.

Ten minutes before two o'clock, the two of them decided to stop reading and begin making their way back to their classroom. Daisuke cleaned up the food wrappers that Natsuki had left behind, while Natsuki stood by and waited for him in silence, clutching _Parfait Girls _and _Band Fist Revolution _across her chest. When he had thrown away the wrappers in a nearby trash can and dusted his hands clean, the two of them started their walk across the grounds.

Natsuki spoke up after a moment of silence. "Thanks. . ."

"Don't mention it," he told her. "I kinda wish I could've done it earlier. Getting you snacks, I mean."

"No, that's okay," said Natsuki. Her voice was firm and calm, though Daisuke sensed that it wasn't because she was angry at him. "What you did was really enough."

Silence fell once more between them. Daisuke held open the doors leading into the school corridors for Natsuki to enter first. She passed by without looking at him, though she said another word of thanks. Instead of following, Daisuke stared after her, watching her walk quietly and timidly in the vacant corridors towards the 3-D classroom. He sighed as he watched her go, remembering the worry that had gripped him when she nearly collapsed, and again imagining what had caused her to become like that. In a way, Daisuke wanted to do more to help her, especially since he sensed that this was not the first—or the last—time that this had happened to Natsuki.

Just then, another idea popped up in his head. After a moment's thoughtful pause, he smiled. _Of course_. Closing the doors leading into the corridors, he made his way towards the classroom after Natsuki.

He knew what to do for the next day. And again, it'd be a surprise for her.

* * *

The following day, Natsuki sat alone once again in their usual spot on the school grounds, watching the leaves fall idly from the tree that towered above the bench she was sitting on. She was feeling slightly better today, as she managed to eat a little for breakfast and packed a sandwich for lunch. What's more, her father seemed to have recovered from his most recent spell in the past week. Though the memory of it still rang clearly inside her head, she was just thankful that it had passed.

She was greatly thankful for Daisuke as well. In spite of her pride and her harsh nature trying to help her get by, Natsuki felt that if she had gone on with not eating anything for yesterday, she would have ended up in the school infirmary as a best case scenario. Her father would have been notified about what happened, instigating even more problems when she'd arrive back home. Natsuki shuddered, not even wanting to imagine what could have happened then. Thankfully, Daisuke had saved her with his genuine compassion and his array of newly-bought vending machine snacks. Her heart leapt and her lip quivered a little as she remembered yesterday.

"Hello!" Daisuke's voice made her look up. Though she wanted to at least smile a little, she stopped when she saw what he was carrying apart from the second issue of _Parfait Girls_, Act 2: a couple of small blue bento boxes.

"W-What are those?" she asked when he had gotten near.

Daisuke flashed his patented gentle smile at her. "Well, I've decided that starting today, we're gonna be eating lunch here."

"'We?'"

"Yep!" Daisuke laughed a little. "Why else do you think I've got two bento boxes with me?"

Natsuki began feeling incredibly self-conscious. "B-B-But . . . why?" she stammered weakly. To rally herself, she began lacing anger into her words. "I mean, I've got my own sandwich right here, you big d-dummy! You didn't have to go and . . . and . . ."

Her statement faded somewhat when the smile never left Daisuke's face. She tried frowning at him, if only to hide her discomfiture, but she knew it was a vain effort. With a huff, she looked down and scooted over to one side of the bench, a signal for Daisuke to go and sit on the opposite side. Daisuke sat down and laid the bento boxes in between them, careful not to place them too close to her _Parfait Girls _copy or his copy of _Band Fist Revolution_. When he opened them, Natsuki saw that they were filled with rice and topped with pork dumplings, scrambled egg rolls and sautéed greens, with a pair of metal chopsticks safely tucked away in a small side compartment next to where all the food was. The sight of the food made Natsuki's stomach rumble slightly.

"W-Where did you even g-get these?" she asked.

"Well, our family runs a small eatery near downtown," replied Daisuke. "I asked my mom if she could make a couple of them for me to bring today. She was delighted because I finally got around to bringing my own lunch to school again like I did back in middle school. She kept asking me about who was going to eat the other one, though."

Natsuki felt even more embarrassed now. "What d-did you tell her?"

Daisuke looked at her and grinned again, his amber eyes seemingly shining with an amiable flourish. "I told her it was for a good friend of mine."

Words failed Natsuki, even as her emotions began riling up. She didn't know whether to feel angry or happy or sad or even more mortified, and for a few moments, she could do nothing but stare into Daisuke's eyes. Her defense mechanism was going haywire trying to figure out whether she was being treated too lightly or not. Daisuke, on the other hand, simply picked up one of the bento boxes and handed it to her. Natsuki took it wordlessly, her eyes never leaving Daisuke even as he looked down to start eating from his own bento box.

Everything suddenly felt better for Natsuki. Her defenses started easing down, and once again, Daisuke came across as a far cry from all the people she had ever known. She looked away and picked up the chopsticks that came with the box with trembling hands. With one more sidelong glance at Daisuke, she smiled appreciatively.

Though he didn't seem to notice her smile at him, Natsuki was content enough.


	7. Chapter 7 - At The Monocle

**CHAPTER SEVEN**** – ****AT THE MONOCLE (YuKi)**

"Trust us; _The_ _Monocle _is a swell place! It's not as posh as the _Cocoa Connection_—you know, that sophisticated café near the mall—but _The_ _Monocle_'s more of a casual hang-out spot than a date place like the _Connection_, so it won't seem too awkward if you go there with a friend."

"Hey, the _Connection_'s not strictly a date place! I used to go there with a friend all the time. It's just a favorite of couples."

"Well, yeah, I'll give you that. But I mean, seriously, have you seen how many couples go there every single day? The first floor is borderline PDA territory!"

As Naoki listened to his classmates' remarks, the gears inside his head were working with silent determination in spite of his own hidden embarrassment. Ever since that P.E. class they had two weeks ago, Naoki felt more drawn to Yuri than ever before, and it was something that was compounded by their ever-growing love for _The Portrait of Markov_. Naoki soon found himself emulating Daisuke by eating lunch faster so that he and Yuri could spend more time discussing the book before lunchtime ended—much to Kenta's dismay, as he would often be left behind without anyone to talk to. Nevertheless, his bonding with Yuri had earned him her cellphone number—a feat that Kenta teased him about for almost an entire week—and the two of them often wasted no time continuing their discussions through text at home. Privately, Naoki admired at how Yuri spoke with proper capitalization and punctuation even in simple text messages, whereas other people would choose to use shortcuts and emoticons extensively instead.

The surprise he was planning for her today had come out of the blue, a byproduct of their text conversation around two nights ago. Though the two of them had gone out multiple times after school over the past two weeks, they mostly went for bookstores, and there were times when they even browsed the same bookstore a couple of times in the same week. While Naoki was fine with this, he felt the need to at least start going somewhere else with Yuri before things took a duller turn. To have something new to talk about, he had asked her what her ideal reading environment was. Yuri's response had made even him conscious about how he read his books.

_When I read at home, I often do so with a cup of oolong tea and a number of scented candles by my side. I find that drinking oolong tea can help increase mental perception, while different aromas from certain scented candles can improve one's mood and heart rate for a relaxing reading experience._

For someone whose ideal reading environment often involved only a book, a working lamp and a bottle of water, Naoki knew that very few places in town delivered such a refined atmosphere, with the exception of spas and health clubs. He did, however, know that there were certain book-themed cafés in town that had optimal ambience for those who wanted to relax while reading and drinking a cup of hot coffee, and he imagined how good it would be to visit one of them with Yuri as something new that they could do sometimes after school. On the other hand, he was also painfully aware that such an excursion would undoubtedly look like a date in the eyes of many, and he wondered whether or not he should go with such a surprise. Then again, Naoki mused, it would only look like a date if he made it out to be. _We're just hanging out as good friends. There's nothing wrong with that_.

In the end, Naoki decided to follow his friends' advice and choose _The_ _Monocle_. After making sure that he had gotten the directions to the café right, he thanked his friends and made his way back to the classroom, where Yuri was undoubtedly waiting for him. Along the way, he ran into Kenta, who had just exited the cafeteria.

"Why aren't you back at the classroom yet?" he asked. "Your girlfriend's waiting, y'know?"

Naoki smiled patiently. "She's not my girlfriend, Kenta."

"Really? You say that after what I saw the other day?" asked Kenta with a smirk.

Naoki knew which day he was referring to. "You keep saying this ever since that happened, you know?"

Kenta clapped his shoulder hard. "You don't have to be too shy about that, Naoki! If you need any pointers on how to take things to the next level, just ask your dear ol' pal!"

Naoki shook his head, chuckling as he remembered Kenta's "expertise" with girls. "Whatever you say, Kenta."

Yuri looked exceptionally happy when he arrived with Kenta at the classroom. As part of his daily routine, Kenta went off to talk to their other classmates to give the two of them some privacy while Naoki sat down to talk to Yuri. She gave him a small but pleasant smile, and Naoki was happy that their discussions were making her less shy about everything—he did, however, wonder whether his surprise later on would cause her to spiral back down into her usual embarrassed self.

"Hello!" he said. "Are you ready for our discussion?"

"Of course!" said Yuri. "If w-we're on the same chapter, I really need to hear what you have to say about what just happened!"

Naoki smiled at her enthusiasm. "Are we talking about _that _chapter?"

"I s-suppose so." Yuri's eyes gleamed with excitement.

As their discussion started, Naoki saw that the two of them were indeed speaking about the same chapter: the one where some light is finally shed on the dark individuals that were tracking down Libitina. Dread mixed with curiosity for Naoki as the pages of _Markov _implied that Libitina may have some sort of connection to a cult-like organization. While nothing solid about Libitina's backstory has been revealed yet, the book starts presenting Libitina in a whole new light as a protagonist who may also have supernatural qualities inside her being, as she starts to harness mysterious powers that she could not yet comprehend. Naoki noticed that this may be a quality in a character that Yuri always found greatly fascinating, as she was now invested in Libitina more than ever.

"Doesn't Libitina strike you as some sort of clairvoyant regarding the supernatural?" Naoki asked her. "I mean, it all started during the first attack, when she found June's corpse. If you look at it, Libitina _sensed _on top of everything that something was wrong, and that's why she visited June's house in the first place. It's as if she sensed death."

"I agree, but I don't think it was because of June's murder," Yuri offered thoughtfully. "I think . . . it may have something to do with Libitina sensing the killer's presence in the city."

"Oh? How so?"

"I think that Libitina is somehow connected with them."

Naoki raised his eyebrows. "Do you mean she has, like, a telepathic link with the beings?"

"I cannot say for sure, but I sense that in some way, Libitina is . . . _related_ with the people looking for her," said Yuri in a hushed voice.

Considering that they haven't gotten to any major twist _The Portrait of Markov _may have, Naoki decided to hold on to Yuri's theory for now as an interesting reference. "Come to think of it, what we've read in the chapter may be shedding some light into Libitina's past as well. The people who are hunting her down have to know her, after all."

"Yes, precisely!" said Yuri. "It would be rather odd for a group of despicable beings to target her all of a sudden unless she has some connection with them. It is rather horrific to imagine that someone as innocent and unassuming as Libitina had anything to do with a fanatical cult, but I suppose we'll find out more in the future chapters."

"You're right. I seriously can't wait to read the next chapter later!"

As the first post-lunchtime bell rang, Naoki's anxiety slowly trickled back. The discussion had gone smoothly, as it always did nowadays, but Yuri's brighter disposition was indeed making him think twice about asking her to go with him to _The Monocle_. After all, he had no intention of causing Yuri's introverted shyness to return full blast just because he decided to ask her out.

_We're going out as friends_, he repeated in his head over and over. _Kenta's ribbing is just getting to me, that's all. There's nothing to worry about. _And yet, in spite of that, Naoki knew that it still looked like a date, and that Yuri might interpret it as such. He sighed and prayed that somehow, the remaining classes of the day would give him some peace of mind to decide whether or not to go ahead with his surprise. If he decided to fall back, there would be nothing wrong with that, and he could try asking Yuri out some other time.

_Well, just treat it like you're reading a new chapter, Naoki._

* * *

Contrary to what he had been hoping for, however, the remaining hours of the school day did little to help Naoki decide on what to do. The only comforting part about it was that his worry didn't grow too much to handle—it only felt as if he was about to take a quiz that he had not studied much for. A few times, he glanced sideways at Yuri, who was either silently writing down notes or listening to the professor's lectures; in her hushed attentiveness, she appeared more sophisticated than usual. Naoki knew that she fared much better in such a state than in a physically demanding environment like their Physical Education classes, though he was glad to notice that Yuri appeared to be doing better on the latter for the past two weeks. _If she looks attentive now, then I suppose her reading focus is ten times more intense_, he mused as his thoughts wandered back to Yuri's reply about her ideal reading atmosphere.

Their last professor for the day had given them the last thirty minutes of Social Studies to finish an extensive seatwork. Because certain students managed to finish everything early, they were allowed to talk and do whatever they wanted as long as they remained in their seats and kept the volume to a minimum. Naoki was among these students, and he exhaled a sigh as he realized that only a quarter of an hour remained for him to decide. He was also thankful that, to his right, Kenta was still busy grumbling as he wrote down his answers to their seatwork; it gave him enough time to act on his surprise without being immediately noticed by him.

Yuri finished her seatwork and passed her paper not long after he did. As she sat back down, she reached into her bag and took out her copy of _The Portrait of Markov_, laying the book on top of her armrest and opening it to where she had left off. Naoki smiled. _Even with only ten minutes left, she decides to spend it all by reading_. That, however, also made him realize that if he would ask Yuri, he would have to do so quickly before the moment passed.

_Worth a shot_. He leaned towards her seat and said jokingly, "You might end up overtaking me in our future discussions if you read in advance, you know?"

Yuri twitched in surprise as she looked at him. "Ah, I'm s-sorry!" she said, blushing as she closed the book. "I didn't r-realize you were looking."

"That's okay, I was just kidding," said Naoki reassuringly. "Anyway, um . . . I've been thinking about what you said that one time, Yuri. About how you read at home and all that. . ."

"Oh, w-what about it?" asked Yuri as she stowed away her copy of _Markov_.

"I'm just curious. . . Have you ever, um, gone to a book café?"

_One step closer to the point of no return_. Yuri stared at him for a few moments, polite puzzlement crossing her beautiful face. "Um . . . a few times before, y-yes. Why d-do you ask?"

Naoki exhaled. _Here we go_. "Well . . . I was thinking that maybe later after class, we could go to one of the book cafés downtown, you know?" Though his voice was steady as he spoke, his heart was beating faster for some reason.

Yuri's resulting expression intensified his nervousness; her amethyst eyes widened a little, and her cheeks slowly turned red. To defuse any more untoward reactions, Naoki went on quickly, "I mean, I've gone to book cafés as well before with a few friends, and I've always found it to be a pretty relaxing experience for both reading and leisure. If you want, we can brush up on _Markov _over a cup of coffee. If it's okay with you, of course!"

Yuri wrung her hands tightly. "W-W-Why are you a-asking me . . . ?" she stammered.

"Um, well, we've gone downtown a few times, but we just go to bookstores most of the time," Naoki replied, "so for a fresh change, let's hang out someplace else!"

"Does that mean you d-didn't like going to those b-bookstores with me . . . ?" asked Yuri, her lip trembling a little.

"No!" said Naoki, careful not to raise his voice from the urgency in it. "No, I totally liked browsing for books with you these past weeks, okay? I just want us both to try out something new for a change, and of course, what better way to do that than with a book café? I mean, it may not be entirely new to us, but, um . . ." With every word he uttered, he racked his brain to find the right words without making everything awkward. _At this point, even a few pointers from Kenta would've helped._

In her nervousness, Yuri looked away for a moment, her right hand caressing her left forearm while her left hand fiddled with a lock of her hair. Naoki felt even more embarrassed now as he imagined how awkward he must have made Yuri feel. _Why do invitations like these have to be difficult?_

Before he could do or say anything else, however, Yuri muttered, "W-Well, if that's w-what you want . . . yes."

He looked at her, surprised. "What was that?" he asked, just to make sure.

Yuri turned her head back towards him. She breathed deeply, resting her gaze upon him with a small smile that belied the flush on her cheeks. "Y-Yes, let's go to a b-book café together. I've never gone there with a friend b-before, so it c-could be a good experience, indeed."

Naoki stared at her with a bit of amazement as Yuri's eyes shone with determination, a gleam that made her smile even more meaningful. She was giving off the same vibe he had seen for the first time when she sprinted for fifty meters in their P.E. class a couple of weeks ago, a vibe that made him unable to tear his gaze from her. Just like last time, however, the moment did not last for long as redness overtook most of Yuri's face, causing her to look away and fidget nervously with her forearm as usual.

At last, the dismissal bell rang. The noise inside the classroom magnified within seconds as the remaining students of 3-C happily submitted their work and made ready to go home. Yuri picked up her bag, stood up and looked at Naoki, still blushing. "I'll w-wait for you at the school entrance, and t-then we can go d-downtown together," she said politely.

With that, she quickly exited the classroom before her face could get any redder. Naoki smiled as he watched her go, happy that things turned out better than he had expected. Next to him, having just returned to his seat after submitting his seatwork, Kenta yelled, "_Finally!_"

For a moment, Naoki wondered if Kenta saw or heard anything to tip him off, or if he had exclaimed so because he heard everything. But he mused that at this point, it didn't matter. The die had already been cast.

_It's not a date . . . is it?_

* * *

As she sat down at their chosen table, Yuri glanced around the interior of _The_ _Monocle_, trying to focus on anything that can alleviate her anxiety while Naoki ordered from the café's counter. She had never visited this particular café before, and the number of people inside made her even more nervous. Usually, book cafés had only a few people to cater to, so she would be free to read in silence without feeling too conscious about anyone around her. Then again, it was Friday, so it seemed a given that more people would start hounding cafés and stores downtown to hang around in.

The walk she had with Naoki on the way downtown helped her calm down a bit after her initial embarrassment at his invitation. Even now, she was wondering what had caused Naoki to invite her all of a sudden to a book café, even if he had given her an explanation already—that he wanted to try out something new with her in an environment that both of them would enjoy.

To its credit, _The Monocle _started making her feel at ease thanks to its charming design. Cushioned chairs and sofas of a similar design flanked a number of marble-topped tables where groups of people were sitting. Some were reading quietly with their food and beverages by their side, while some were conversing with one another over cups of coffee. Brown pine bookshelves lined the bluish white walls, displaying the spines of a large number of random books: romance pocketbooks, coffee table books, picture books, paperback novels, hardbound classics, and even a few stacks of comic books. Modern-style paintings and carvings also adorned the walls, while a number of contemporary light bulbs hung from the ceiling, enveloping the entire place in a soothing light.

Naoki came back after five minutes, carrying a small tray with two cups of cappuccino and a platter of sugar-frosted cookies. Yuri smiled bashfully as he set the tray down, taking her cup with a quiet word of thanks. He put his own cup at his side of the table and set the cookies down between them before placing the tray on a nearby vacant table and taking a seat.

"Pretty neat place, huh?" he told her, adjusting his glasses as he looked around.

Yuri nodded in response. "It is r-rather crowded today, though. . ."

"Yeah, good thing we managed to get a table quickly," said Naoki. "And at least it's relatively quiet for us to start reading."

"Well, yes, there's that," Yuri agreed. Though she wanted nothing more than to start browsing the bookshelves or bury her head in _The Portrait of Markov _to escape from the anxiety she was feeling, she also wanted to keep talking with Naoki so as not to seem rude. After all, he had been the one to ask her to come with him here.

Luckily, Naoki saved her by asking, "Um, anyway, let's start reading, hmm? That way, we'll be able to cover more ground with _Markov _today, and we can discuss as we read. It'll be like a live debate or something!"

He smiled affably at her, and while Yuri couldn't help but smile back, she noticed what seemed to be pink patches form on Naoki's cheeks. She couldn't tell at the moment, though, if what she saw was merely a trick of the light.

Naoki bent down, reaching towards his bag for his copy of _The Portrait of_ _Markov_. Yuri did the same, taking out her own copy and placing it on the marble-topped table next to her cup of cappuccino. Before she could open it, however, she heard Naoki click his tongue.

"Oh. Oh dear. . ." he mumbled.

Knowing that such words could only mean that something was wrong, Yuri looked up. "What is it?" she asked.

Naoki sat up straighter, scratching his head. "Um . . . it seems that I've stashed my copy at my locker by mistake. . ." he replied.

"O-Oh, is that so?" asked Yuri.

"Yeah," said Naoki, laughing a little. "Must've been too excited to get here that I didn't pay attention to my things. . ."

Before Yuri could react further, he stood up with a casual shrug. "Ah well. It can't be helped. Looks like you're gonna be overtaking me in chapters today, but that's okay! I'm just gonna go look for something else to read over there."

"Ah, no, y-you don't need to! We can read from my c-copy together!"

The words came out before Yuri could stop them. Her voice did not rise to a volume that drew glances from people inside _The Monocle_, but they rang in her ears nonetheless. She cupped her hand on her lips, as if she had just uttered a disgusting swearword. Naoki, on the other hand, looked at her with a surprised expression on his face. She fiddled with her hair apprehensively, her heart hammering as her mind cursed her inability to close her mouth.

"I mean, ah, um . . . y-you see . . ."

Yuri breathed deeply, trying her best to calm her nerves. When she spoke again, she was thankful that her voice had a steadier tone even as she still stammered a bit. "What I mean is that . . . if y-you want, we can read from my copy together so that we'll still b-be around the same chapters. It would be unfair if I've read m-more into the story compared to y-you."

"I see," said Naoki. "Well, I'm fine with reading something new from the shelves, but—"

"Oh, it's okay if y-you don't want to r-read with me!" Yuri went on.

"Wait, no, I didn't mean it like that, Yuri!" said Naoki hurriedly, waving his hand. "It's just that, ah . . . would it be fine with you if we read together?"

"Y-Yes, I won't mind!" said Yuri. "It's not something that I've d-done before with anyone, but it's f-fine."

As she finished speaking, Yuri's mind darted towards the idea that because they only had one book to share right now between the two of them, Naoki would have to be very close indeed to her to be able to read alongside her. The thought made her heart beat even faster—physical closeness, even if it was something as ordinary as standing in a bus next to other passengers, always made her feel awkward and mortified. She debated in her mind for a moment on whether or not she should just let Naoki get a book of his own from _The Monocle_'s shelves, but then again . . .

_You've said the words already. Just press on._

And indeed, before she knew it, the two of them were sitting side by side, with Naoki on her right. Naoki, however, maintained a respectable distance from her, as if fearful of letting their shoulders touch. Yuri, on the other hand, assured him that it was okay for him to stick close enough to be able to read from the book. To her credit and wonder, Naoki looked to be just as nervous about the prospect as she was, even as he drew in closer than his initial distance allowed.

"I'm at Chapter Fourteen," she said. "Are you t-there as well?"

"Actually, yes," replied Naoki with a grin. "Shall we begin?"

"Sure, let's g-go right ahead."

With that, the two of them started reading. Yuri was still unsure about whether or not she and Naoki were indeed on the same chapter and page, worried that he might only be saying so to make her feel better about not being too ahead or too far behind. Still, she decided to take Naoki's word for it and pressed on reading. Slowly, she managed to get lost in the novel once more, though this time—with an emotion she could not properly describe—she was doing so for the first time with someone right beside her, literally and figuratively.

Though their reading was punctuated by a few comments the two of them made and some sips of cappuccino, Yuri found that the shared reading experience was going more pleasantly than she had anticipated, though she would have preferred oolong tea over cappuccino or any caffeine-infused beverage. The sugar cookies, however, tasted refreshingly light, even if she was not particularly fond of such desserts. Soon, their cappuccino and cookies ran out long before they finished reading.

The bulk of her enjoyment in this particular reading session, however, came from Naoki. As focused on reading as she was, he proved to be a good reading companion, knowing when to speak and to keep quiet, pointing out a few things with unique insight alongside her own thoughts, a veritable Virgil to her Dante as they traversed through the Inferno that was Libitina's ordeal. And an Inferno it was indeed, as Libitina soon dove deeper and deeper into the figurative circles of Hell as she began making connections between her persona, the people she knew, and the cult that was trying to hunt her down.

"How horrible. . ." Yuri muttered.

"What is?" asked Naoki, looking at her.

"Well, it is rather appalling t-to think that Libitina has anything in common with the ones who are searching for her," she replied quietly. "Libitina has her flaws, no doubt about that, but to imagine that she might be as vile and calculating as the antagonistic ones . . . but I suppose it d-does add a bit of depth to everything. . ."

"Depth? How so?"

Yuri cleared her throat, steadying her voice as she took on her knowledgeable demeanor. "Well, I adore stories like these because they do challenge someone to look at everything from a different perspective. Right now, we may still be unable to deduce the motives behind the antagonists' actions regarding Libitina, but we can be sure that they have their own reasons—certain goals, or philosophies that they may believe in."

"I agree with that," said Naoki with a nod.

"With that in mind, I suppose we cannot immediately label them as evil just because they are written to appear as such," Yuri continued. "What if there was a very profound and logical reason behind everything they are doing? What if Libitina's past sheds a new light upon them? Can we still perceive them as irredeemably evil if the heroine herself might come from the same mold?"

Naoki looked at her in silence for a moment. "Well, you're not wrong in that regard, but that's something that we'll have to wait and see, hmm?"

"Oh, yes, I s-suppose so," said Yuri, her confidence ebbing. "I'm sorry if I started r-rambling there. . ."

Naoki grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth. "Yuri, you like apologizing a lot, don't you?"

Yuri twitched. "Ah! Is it b-bothering you?" she asked shamefacedly. "I'm sorry!" There was a brief pause, during which she realized what she just said. "Ah, I did it again. . ."

"No, it's fine," said Naoki encouragingly. "I just noticed that you tend to say sorry a lot when you start talking about something in depth."

"Y-Yes, I tend to get conscious about it because . . . b-because it's what draws people away from me most of the time," Yuri admitted.

"I-Is that so?" asked Naoki.

Yuri nodded, bowing her head. "It's just that . . . Naoki, I always do things alone. At home, it's different because I have my grandmother to keep me company, but at school . . . eating, going to a certain establishment, taking in the sights downtown. . . I said before that I've never done this before. Well, t-the truth is that there were people in the past who've asked me out like this, but . . ."

"But what? What do you mean?"

Certain memories came flooding back to Yuri as she sat in silence, memories where she had been asked out by former classmates in the past in a friendly manner only to have things end on a very awkward note. "Well, the thing is that m-my tendency to space out or drone on and on ruins the experience for them. They try their best to share my interest in reading and writing, even if I know it's just for the sake of maintaining a conversation, but when I start rambling on about it like there's no tomorrow, I end up smothering anything that they have to say. They feel like . . . like I'm just t-taking control of everything without letting them speak, like I just want the attention all to myself. . .

"It's just like I said b-before—when I speak sometimes, people perceive me as a know-it-all, as someone who always has something to say, as someone who overthinks about anything. They feel overwhelmed by everything I'm saying, and sometimes they even find it weird. . . In the end, when we go our separate ways and call it a day, they just end up forgetting about the experience, and they n-never ask me out ever again. . ."

Naoki was silent for a while. When he spoke up, his tone was rather downcast. "I see. . . I'm sorry if asking you to come with me here made you feel uncomfortable, Yuri."

Yuri turned her head towards him, staring deep into those bespectacled grey eyes of his. "N-No, it's fine, Naoki! In fact, I do enjoy the time I spend with you. And I never manage to properly thank you for everything that you do f-for me."

"But I don't exactly do that much, Yuri," said Naoki.

"You do!" Yuri cried out. "Just b-being patient and respectful of what I have to say, that's really, really important to me. I know I can be a difficult person to be around s-sometimes, but the way you treat me like you would treat any friend of yours, that truly means a lot to me. It's . . . It's a rare experience for me to feel comfortable with myself when I talk to others, and yet it's something that I always experience w-with you. The way we discuss our literary escapades, the way w-we speak about our favorite fictional characters, and the way you listen to what I have to say . . . that's why every time I talk to you, I just feel . . . really happy."

She breathed deeply once again. "With that s-said, if it's n-not too much trouble, I sincerely hope we can go out like this again . . . in the f-future."

As Yuri finished speaking, her heart raced and her face burned. It was a new and rather embarrassing experience for her to be so vocal about such things, and yet she could feel determination egging her on from within. After all, how could she lie about how she felt, when she was always prone to expressing her thoughts and emotions in the most frank of ways, even to a fault?

After staring deep into her eyes with something akin to wonder, Naoki smiled at her. It was quite possibly the warmest smile he had given her thus far. His cheeks were tinged with color once more, though not to the same degree that Yuri sensed her face was displaying, and again she wondered whether her eyes were merely playing tricks on her.

When Naoki spoke again, his words were short but sincere. "Likewise, Yuri."

Yuri smiled back, placing her right hand almost involuntarily atop her left forearm. The caress she gave it was the softest she had done so far. Something in Naoki's smile seemed to put her heart at ease, slowing down its frenzied beating. She continued to gaze at him, marveling at how sometimes, even the shortest of his replies spoke in the greatest volumes.


	8. Chapter 8 - Infinite Choices

**CHAPTER EIGHT**** – ****INFINITE CHOICES (MoniKenta)**

Academics, occasional athletics, the debate club, home. Monika knew that this would be her daily routine for her junior school year, as it always had been since middle school—though the debate club part only started when she was in her sophomore year. It wasn't all bad; in fact, sometimes it was even a necessity, given that she was indeed one of the top achievers in their year as well as an excellent role model for many other students around her. However, it did tend to get tedious and tiring whenever she would have to don the mask that so many others had bestowed upon her, and sometimes it felt like she was slowly being turned into more of a figurehead than an actual, normal student. As she sat in her chair and wrote down notes from their Social Studies lecture, her mind couldn't help but wander towards what she had always wanted: to at least start being herself.

She wasn't even spared at home, where Monika only had a group of household helpers for company. Her parents were always absent from home as they ran the family business in other prefectures, so they never really bothered to check on her most of the time. Because of her high academic marks and popularity in school as a model student, Monika was allowed to enjoy a bit of freedom when it came to going out and enjoying some time with her friends. None of the people at home controlled her for it—in fact, anything and everything she wanted, she could have from them—though privately she would have also preferred having her parents at home to talk to instead of waiting to hear from them once every month.

Monika put down her pen and rubbed her eyes wearily. In silence, she took the time to observe her classmates in 3-A. So far, only a precious few of them made her comfortable, as they were the ones who didn't treat her like a princess, fawning over her and currying her favor in a lot of ways. Even her fellow debate club members, who regarded her as the best among them, often saw her as simply their perfect leader, only talking to her when they need to settle things for the club with impartiality and never thinking for themselves. Monika sighed. She knew everyone meant well, but she felt that being treated as something akin to a perfect princess was rather ridiculous when she had flaws, likes and thoughts like everyone else does. In middle school, Monika may have felt flattered at the praise she had received—after all, those where the days when school popularity mattered and being the king or queen of the class was a position highly coveted by teenagers. That kind of notion, however, lost its novelty as time passed by and as people grew up.

Their Social Studies professor gave them their final reminders and soon left the classroom, leaving them to wait for their next class. Eagerly, Monika took out her favorite composition notebook and opened it back to the page where she had been writing a poem earlier. Since last year, Monika had taken to writing poems in order to privately express her feelings, and it came with the added bonus of appearing too busy to be approached by those who wanted to just talk to her for the sake of talking to the most popular girl in their year. Admittedly, there was no harm in their intentions, but she couldn't bear to do that all the time, as it made her feel so unappreciated for who she truly was—not a goddess, not a perfect person, just Monika.

Quietly, she put pen to paper and began writing. Even though she would pause and gather her thoughts at times, everything came so easily for her—perhaps because of the fact that she had so many thoughts and so few people to speak them to that putting them into written words seemed relatively easy. Her mood, her perspective, her side, all of these dictated what would come out in her stanzas and lines, and whenever Monika would go back to reread them, she would smile reflectively at how everything turned out to be. Though she never considered herself to be a writer par excellence, she still marveled at how deep and meaningful her written words would come out to be. However, her smile would fade a little when she knew that if someone would take their time to read her poems, they would only end up praising them without reading much into them, the same way that people often did when they interacted with her. Hence, she was her poems' only reader most of the time.

In a few more strokes, she had finished her poem:

"_Pen in hand, I find my strength._

_The courage endowed upon me by my one and only love._

_Together, let us dismantle this crumbling world_

_And write a novel of our own fantasies._

_With a flick of her pen, the lost finds her way._

_In a world of infinite choices, behold this special day._

_After all,_

_Not all good times must come to an end_."

Monika stared at the words she had just written. _My one and only love_. She had to smile at the idea of that. Most of the time, her poems had such an element woven into them, though she sensed that having the idea of a "one and only love" as a recurring theme of her personal work was only wishful thinking on her part. Many would-be admirers have always stepped forth to voice their intentions of asking her out, either discreetly or explicitly with flowers and love letters, but though Monika tried to be friendly with them, she never felt a spark form between her and any of them as time passed. It saddened her as well to see that almost all of them seemed to have fallen for their image of her, not _her_, and that they chose to mask their own selves as well in order to appear more favorable to her. The worse ones—though Monika avoided labeling them as "worse" if she could help it—simply wanted her to be their girlfriend in order to brag to their friends that they were dating one of the most popular and beautiful girls in the school. If she would ever end up with a boy, she wanted that boy to be someone who would be accepting of her quirks, aware of her flaws, and understanding about her sentiments; that boy also had to stay true to who and what he really was, and not adjust in any unnecessary way just to fit her standards; and of course, she wanted that boy to treat her as an equal, and not merely as a trophy girlfriend. And so, Monika had turned down many of her admirers with a heavy heart, as she never really wanted to hurt any of their feelings; she was glad that they were at least cordial about it.

She tapped her pen against her notebook in silence. The sounds of it seemed to mimic the way her heart beat in her chest: silent, simple, and easily drowned out in the tidal wave of voices and noises that surrounded her. Even so, her heart beat with longing, longing for a day where she could finally shed the worries and pretensions that she always put up in her everyday life and just be who she really was around people, and have them respond more sincerely in return. Monika knew that beyond the restrictions and limitations imposed upon her, there truly was a world of infinite choices, ready to be discovered and enjoyed, learned and relished. And she knew that out there was someone who could actually understand her, someone who could look at everything and anything about her and still appreciate her because of it. Out there was someone who could treat her as an actual person, and not as a mere idea or facsimile of perfection. Out there was someone who would look at her and see more than just the façade that she had been forced to put around herself for most of her life.

And yet, out there was someone who may not even be aware that she—the real Monika within the curtains of her fascia—existed, and that someone may not even take the initiative to share anything about their own selves, opting instead to put on their own masks so that they could talk to her. She stopped tapping her pen as the thought filled her with pangs of sadness. But she wanted to hope, and keep hoping.

As their English professor entered the classroom, Monika sighed and closed her notebook. Her heart continued to beat silently, and she wondered what it will take to find that special day—and that special someone.

* * *

"_Finally!_" Kenta yelled as soon as their last professor for the day had exited their classroom. Though his shout was drowned out by the excited chatter and laughter around him, many in the classroom shared his sentiments. The weekends were the only days he looked forward to, especially after a busy school week and an even more hectic week to look forward to. Kenta found it outrageous that they already had two upcoming school projects and a long test to deal with only one month after classes started. Right now, Kenta couldn't wait to bust some school stress with a few games at the arcade or by chowing down on some good food downtown.

Next to him, Naoki was packing up his notebooks quickly and quietly. Kenta turned to him. "You wanna hang out downtown?" he asked. "I'll text Daisuke and see if he can come, too."

"Actually, I . . . have other plans for tonight, Kenta," Naoki said with an apologetic smile.

Kenta frowned. "'Other plans,' eh? That obviously means 'I've got a date tonight, Kenta,'" he remarked.

Naoki shrugged happily. "Well, it's just that there's this awesome place that I found out about," he said. "It's this book café downtown called _The Monocle_. I asked Yuri if she wanted to go there for tonight and . . . well, she accepted."

"Oh, so it _is _a date," said Kenta as he raised his eyebrows. Yuri had rushed out of the classroom the moment she had packed her things, red-faced. He mused that Naoki must have asked her out during their last class.

"Well, n-not like that," said Naoki, laughing. "It's just that . . . I wanna take her somewhere she'll feel comfortable, alright? I mean, I think we've browsed through enough bookstores already, and it may be time to look for other places we can hang out at—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," said Kenta. "I guess I'll just text Daisuke, then."

"Actually, I think he told me earlier at lunchtime that he had something planned with Natsuki as well," Naoki pointed out.

Kenta let out an indignant sigh. "Well, I guess I'll just have to go downtown by my damn lonesome, then! Dammit, Naoki! You and Daisuke meet a couple of girls during your first day of school, and a month later you're already leaving your best buddy out to dry so you can go on dates!"

"We're really sorry, Kenta," said Naoki, laughing. "I mean, I guess we're just all caught off guard by how things are going. You're still our best buddy, and it's not our intention to leave you all alone while we have other plans! In fact, why don't you . . . ask Monika out or something?"

"Oh, wow, that's sound advice coming from you, Naoki!" Kenta cried out sarcastically. He imitated Naoki's voice and said, "'Why don't you ask Monika out?' If I ever end up doing that and it mucks up—which I know it will—I'll jump off a damn cliff."

"Okay, okay, sorry about that!" said Naoki as his laugh grew louder. "I mean, I thought it'd be a good idea, considering you went out with her a couple of times last month, right?"

"Those ain't dates, alright?" Kenta snapped. "She just needed some help with a few things!"

Naoki shook his head, smirking. "Could be worth a try. I mean, you're the only guy that Monika's been going out with consistently. She never asks anyone else, from what I could see."

Kenta scratched his head, both peeved and nervous. While he wanted to respond to Naoki's remark with a rant or jeer, he knew that what he had said was perfectly true. In the past month of their junior school year so far, Monika had remained cordial to him, cordial enough to ask him to accompany her on certain trips outside of school and into downtown. Kenta sensed how weird they sometimes were—after all, it made him look like a lackey of some sort—but he still cherished the experiences because they were with Monika. And Naoki was right in saying that Monika never called upon anyone else to help her with them; she and Kenta were the only ones who were together during those times, and Monika never invited any of her friends or other acquaintances over to join them. While Kenta wanted to think that these were nothing but harmless and simple gestures of familiarity between him and Monika, he wanted to believe somehow that there was something behind these seemingly harmless gestures. _Was that a wrong thing to do?_

"Well, that's, er. . ." he blurted out. "Uh . . . I dunno."

Naoki chuckled. "It's alright," he said. "Anyway, there's always next time. This Friday is just a coincidence, that's all. We'll make it up to you next weekend, how about that?"

Kenta merely sighed and brushed his hand dismissively. "That's alright, you dolts, whatever you want. Anyway, good luck. I guess I'll just have to find a way to enjoy this Friday night all alone downtown."

Though he said these things with an indignant grouchiness, Kenta didn't really mind that he was being left all alone. After all, this wasn't the first time that a prospected outing didn't end up the way it should with one or two members of their trio missing, and to take these kinds of things seriously would mean treating their friendship as something so fragile or easily cracked—not the kind of stuff that brotherhood was built upon. The only thing about it that made Kenta conscious was that Daisuke and Naoki would spend their time with two pretty girls with whom they appear to be becoming fast friends with. He, on the other hand, had never been really lucky with ladies, and it always put him in a sullen mood.

His thoughts shifted to Monika—sweet, beautiful, friendly Monika. Ever since he had met her during their freshman year, Kenta had been unable to look at other girls the same way. Naoki and Daisuke often joked about how he had been practically a playboy all through middle school until he had met Monika and started believing in the stick-to-one principle. The only other numbers that can far exceed the number of girls he had tried dating would be the number of guys that he had gotten into fistfights with, a phase of youthful machismo that Kenta had not quite grown out of yet. Kenta frowned; just because he tried asking out girl after girl during middle school doesn't mean he ever managed to win the heart of any of them—and he _never_ tried asking them all at once, as he liked to remind his buddies, since he just basically moved to another girl after being dumped by one.

With Monika, however . . . despite his huge crush for her, Kenta never really made his feelings known to her, and somehow Monika didn't seem to notice them in the subtle hints that gave Kenta away—the way he would blubber and stammer whenever she tried engaging him in a solid conversation in front of others or the way he'd blush whenever she would stand or walk too close to him. Kenta sighed. He knew that with a track record like his in both academics and as a boy, he virtually had no chance with Monika. Still, even with such thoughts in his head, he never moved on from her, nor did he instinctively set his sights on another girl after a few weeks of recovery. This was a weight he had been carrying since their first encounter during freshman year.

Naoki left the classroom a minute before he did. By this time, most of the students in and out of the 3-C classroom had exited the school already. Realizing that spending time alone downtown was still better than going home this early, Kenta slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way to the school doors, whistling a mockingly sad tune as he walked.

The school grounds were starting to grow quieter as the volume of voices began spreading out into the streets outside the school. As he exited the school, Kenta ran into a few of his other friends from other classes and within 3-C, and again he became slightly resentful that he was spending this Friday night not knowing what to do or who to go with. Kenta didn't feel as close to these people as he did with Daisuke and Naoki, with whom he had been best friends since their middle school years, so he never asked them if he could join them on their own outings downtown later that night. With a smile, a joke and a wave, Kenta walked past them.

He had not gone too far down the street to downtown, however, when he heard a very familiar and cheerful voice call out behind him, "Kenta!"

Immediately, Kenta felt his knees tremble. He knew that voice; though it graced his ears rather sparingly, the mere sound of it always caused him to feel a tremendous rush of refreshing elation, like a comforting splash of cold water to the face during a hot sunny day. He swallowed nervously, turned around, and saw Monika walking briskly towards him, waving her hand.

Magnificent, gorgeous, breathtaking Monika. If there was any time when Kenta would use flattering words that he had only read a few times from a dictionary, he would use them all to describe Monika. As she walked towards him, time seemed to slow down, and the only sounds he could hear were her footsteps and his heartbeat, both of which seemed to fall into perfect rhythm together. Monika's long, flowing brown hair swayed gaily behind her as she moved, wrapped in a ponytail with her favorite white ribbon, and her piercing green eyes lent her beautiful face a considerable aura of elegance. Her school uniform and the red leather school handbag that she carried did nothing to mar her lovely appearance; in fact, they only served to magnify it.

"How are you?" asked Monika. As usual, she was being her nice and friendly self.

"Well, I'm, um . . . doing alright," he replied nervously. "How about you?"

Monika smiled. "Still the same, I guess," she replied. "Anyway, I've been told that I'll be picked up a bit late for today because our driver went out on an errand. I'm planning on spending some time downtown while I'm waiting for him, and that's when I saw you walking. Are you going there as well?"

_Holy crap_. "Er, yes, I am" he said, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. "I was gonna ask my buddies to come along, but they, ah . . . told me they had other plans."

"So you're going alone?" Monika raised her eyebrows. "If you want, um . . . you can tag along with me!"

_Again, holy crap_. Kenta felt weak. "Uh . . . are you sure? I mean, um. . ."

A cheery laugh from Monika caused Kenta's words to catch in his throat. "It's alright with me, silly," she told him. "I mean, it's not like this is our first time going downtown together, and I really appreciate the times you helped me, remember those?"

_How could I ever forget? _"Uh, well . . . er . . . yes," he mumbled.

"Besides, I like it when I spend time outside of school and at home," Monika went on. "I mean, schoolwork and extracurricular activities can be really exhausting sometimes. Anyway, um . . . if you don't wanna go, I totally understand, Kenta."

"B-But don't you have other friends to g-go with?" asked Kenta.

Monika shook her head sadly. "Looks like our friends all have other plans for tonight," she replied. "And I'd rather be outside for a couple of hours instead of being at home doing nothing."

"W-Well, er . . . if it's alright with you, then it's a-alright with me!"

"Great!" Monika beamed at him again.

_If Monika was the one who did the asking, do I still have to jump off a cliff?_

* * *

Downtown was only starting to get going for real when the two of them walked into it. Lights began turning on, showing the names of various establishments and the nightlife façade of buildings as the sunset began to dim. Employees who had just finished their shifts for the day began filing out to go home or somewhere else, and vehicles began picking up in number on the streets. Monika looked around and smiled to herself; downtown was always her favorite place to hang out in, especially since there was always a certain venue just waiting to be discovered by her, and sometimes she wanted nothing more than to get lost in this maze of urban sights and sensations.

As expected, Kenta was being unusually quiet. Whenever Monika ran into him at school, he was always boisterously loud and rascal-like, ever ready to crack a joke or speak his mind. Even his mere presence—with his spiky red hair, his mischievous opal-colored eyes, and a figure that wouldn't look out of place in any sports team—commanded and demanded attention from nearly anyone. She had seen so during the time that they were classmates back in their freshman year, and though some of their schoolmates or classmates were turned off by it, Monika found it rather endearing. However, there were also times when she envied Kenta's candid bearing, simply because he could at least speak his mind and feelings without much fuss or restrictions. And even as she sensed that Kenta knew he was sometimes judged for it, she admired him for not letting it bother him visibly.

For their downtown trip, Monika decided to just make things easier by having them hang out at the _Cocoa Connection_. Ever since she had discovered that bistro during one of her downtown shopping trips, Monika had been drawn to it. The place was quiet and cozy, perfect for people who just wanted to unwind and gather their thoughts over a hot cup of coffee or a glass of iced espresso macchiato. Monika especially liked the place's ambience, since it helped her focus while she'd write poems idly or read from the bistro's collection of books that customers were free to use.

She had gone to the _Connection _with Kenta only once before, and that had been during the time he'd helped her buy a birthday gift for her mother last month. Why she had asked him of all people, Monika didn't know at that time, but the memories of their year as classmates had convinced her to ask him. She almost laughed out loud as she remembered how positively agitated Kenta looked when they entered the bistro and saw couples sitting everywhere. To make things clear, though, Monika had guided him upstairs to the bistro's second floor, where there were other tables and chairs that didn't require two people to sit too close to one another, unlike the loveseats that were at the bistro's ground floor. To her slight surprise, Kenta looked more relieved at the prospect of sitting casually instead of comfortably with her.

The two of them made their way to the counter. "I'll have the almond milk macchiato, please," she told the clerk cheerfully. "And a small slice of cheesecake to go with it. How about you, Kenta? Go ahead! My treat!"

Kenta's eyes widened. The clerk looked at him expectantly, but he waved his hands and shook his head. "N-Nothing for me!" he said with a nervous laugh. "I'm still f-full!"

"Oh, come on," said Monika lightheartedly. "Is it because I said it's on me?"

"Well, er, u-um . . ." He scratched his head anxiously, shifting his feet under him. "Y-Yes. I mean, I can order something, b-but only if you're not the one who's g-gonna pay for it. . ."

Monika laughed. "It's totally fine with me, silly!" she told him. "Besides, I didn't ask you to tag along with me just so you can watch me eat and drink."

"Er . . ." Kenta let out a long, embarrassed sigh. "Well, I'm gonna order, but I'm s-still gonna pay for it, okay? N-Not you."

Monika pouted playfully at him. "Well, suit yourself," she said. "As long as you don't feel left out accompanying me, alright?"

After Kenta had ordered a simple glass of coffee jelly, the two of them made their way upstairs to find a good table. Just like with downstairs, the second floor of the _Connection _had various decorative furniture and pieces such as bookcases laden with novels and short stories, some end tables bearing small potted plants and trinkets, and various paintings hanging on the walls. There was more space here than downstairs, as the second floor was usually reserved for lone people rather than couples, so Monika easily managed to pick out a good spot for them to sit—a table next to the bistro's front windows, where they would have a clear view of the street and the people walking by. Kenta picked up a spare chair from a nearby vacant table and used it to sit across the table from Monika.

Their order arrived after around five minutes. After everything had been set down, Monika turned to Kenta. "So, have academics been treating you well?" she asked him.

Kenta grunted. "I guess," he replied. Monika saw that he was avoiding her eyes. "Business is picking up, though. A couple of projects and a long test."

"What subjects?"

"History, Social Studies and English," said Kenta as he dug at his coffee jelly with a straw.

"How did sophomore year go?" she asked him as she pieced off a slice of cheesecake with a fork. "Did you do well?"

Monika had asked such a question because she, like many other students, knew Kenta's level of performance as a student. In their freshman year—and probably long before that, Monika guessed—Kenta had been prone to skipping classes or arriving late, and most of the time, he failed to submit homework or school projects on time. As a classmate who only wanted to look out for her fellow students, Monika had done her best to monitor Kenta and convince him to do better by seeking out tutors rather than have him risk getting expelled. To her joy, Kenta followed her guidance by asking his cousin to serve as his tutor, and it eventually paid off; Kenta managed to get by their freshman year without flunking any of their subjects, and he appeared to be doing better ever since. This soon helped her establish a sort of friendship with him, one that extended beyond the casual dealings that came with being schoolmates in separate classes.

"Yeah," Kenta replied silently. "I stopped getting tutored during the second half of last year because my cousin said I was doing well enough. But I promised him and Mom that if I started flunking again, I'll get right back to it. Being tutored, I mean."

"That's really good to hear!" said Monika, taking a sip of macchiato. "I hope you'll keep it up until the end of senior year as well."

For the first time during their trip from school to downtown, Kenta grinned freely at her—though he did so with an air of embarrassment. "Well, if it hadn't been f-for you, I wouldn't have taken my cousin seriously, y'know?" he said. "And I have to say, it's a pretty welcome change from being a school slacker. My pals make fun of me for it sometimes."

Monika frowned as she swallowed another piece of cheesecake. "Why would they make fun of you? There's nothing wrong with doing better, you know?"

"Ah, I know," said Kenta quickly. "I meant that they sometimes joke about, er . . . the _transformation _I've gone through, but not in a bad way. It's more of, um . . . you know, jokes between best buddies, stuff like that."

"Oh, there you go," said Monika. "I thought they were making fun of you for actually trying to do something about your past behavior or something. My bad!" she added with a giggle.

Kenta laughed a little as well. "It's okay."

"It's just that . . . I don't like it when people do that, you know?" Monika poked at her last piece of cheesecake with her fork. "It's always so nice to see others trying to strive and make up for their past mistakes, or do something about their current image because they're not happy about it. It applies for a lot of things: losing weight, helping others, studying better, and so on. . . And then there are just some people who tend to ignore that and make fun of you just because they've gotten so used to what they think of you."

Monika let out a small sigh as she remembered her own experiences. It wasn't that other people made fun of her for trying to be true to her own self and to them; rather, it was because they had a tendency of ignoring or playing down what she was trying to do because they still regarded her as someone who does not need to change or be transparent. Her parents, some of her friends, most of her classmates and admirers . . . She set down her fork and looked outside the windows of the _Cocoa Connection_, her emotions once again overtaken by that feeling of longing.

"Um, are y-you okay?" asked Kenta.

Monika snapped back to attention with a blink. She smiled rather sadly at Kenta. "Yes, I'm fine," she replied. "Just stressed out from school sometimes, that's all. . ."

Kenta raised his eyebrows. He looked as if he wanted to say something but was deciding against it. She inclined her head a little. "Do you want to ask me something?" she asked kindly.

"Um . . . Now that you, er, mentioned that . . . Why are you stressed out?" Kenta asked silently.

For a moment, Monika was slightly puzzled by his question; she didn't know whether Kenta was trying to figure out why she, of all people, could be capable of being stressed out, or if he was genuinely asking why she was stressed. As she looked into Kenta's opal eyes, however, Monika sensed that it was more of the latter case.

"Academics, sports, home, clubs," she narrated in a singsong voice before smiling ruefully. "I mean, I know I shouldn't be complaining too much about them, but sometimes the stuff that I do just becomes . . . taxing, you know?"

". . . You mean, like you're being made to pay for something?" asked Kenta.

"Ah, close enough!" Monika replied with a laugh. Though Kenta had misinterpreted her use of the word "taxing," the way he had used it was still right in a sense. "Anyway, I have a lot of things on my mind most of the time, and I can't really say them to anyone else because they always . . . always expect me to just bunker down and keep going, I guess."

"But how about your other friends? The people from the debate club, your classmates, your parents?"

Monika brushed away a lock of hair from her face. "That's kind of my problem, actually," she said quietly, though she didn't continue whatever it was that she was planning to say. For a few moments, she stayed quiet, wondering whether she should at least say something about everything she had been going through. Kenta looked at her, half-curious and half-shy as he drank from his glass of coffee jelly. Again, she began to wonder why she often ended up with him of all people, but if she had to answer at that moment, she somehow felt that she liked Kenta's company, even if he was quiet around her most of the time.

"Um . . . Kenta, if you don't mind, c-can I share something with you?"

A bit of color rushed to Kenta's face. "S-Sure, go ahead."

Monika placed her hands atop their table; it was a routine she often did before speaking publicly, either while she was on an interschool debate competition with her fellow debate club members or delivering a small speech to other students in their year. It helped her calm her thoughts and speak freely.

"I'm just tired, Kenta. Not just from school or from the debate club. I'm talking about mostly . . . _everything_. It's tough sometimes, you know? There are a lot of days when I just want to go out and be free, be _me_. For a very long time now, I'm just showing others the kind of person that they want me to be. It's not that that's a bad thing or something, of course, but it feels like it's . . . taking away a lot from my life, and it tends to become emotionally and mentally draining when you try to keep being confident or good at a lot of things all the time."

But just like that, Monika stopped talking. Putting on her mask to speak with people was easy enough; taking the mask off and opening up about the difficulties it brought, on the other hand, was more challenging than she had anticipated. She looked at Kenta once again, but she still couldn't bring herself to continue. Was it because she felt that she had said too much? Was it because she didn't trust Kenta enough, with him being merely a casual friend?

Kenta spoke before she could answer those, however. He still sounded nervous, but he looked determined as well. "I kinda know how that feels. I mean, it's not the same level as yours, but yeah, there are a few times when I also feel really tired about what I'm doing."

Monika was genuinely surprised now. "You do?"

Kenta nodded. "I mean, I know I'm a fun-loving guy, but most of the time, when I try to be serious, people don't even take me seriously anymore. They always say '_Oh, Kenta, you're joking again,_' or '_Kenta, you're always trying to make everything funny._' I kinda feel like that little kid from that one story, the one with the sheep and the wolf, and it just . . . I dunno, it just sucks sometimes. So yeah, maybe I have an idea about how you f-feel."

A small silence followed his words, punctuated only by the bistro's ambient music and the muffled noises out in the streets below. He just stared down and finished the last of his coffee jelly. Monika stared at him earnestly, marveling at how much he had said in just a few simpler words, and how similar they were to hers. She wondered as well if this was a side of him that his friends knew of, or if they would take him seriously if they did. As she dwelt on those thoughts, she realized that she actually had something in common with this fiery-haired, delightful jokester than she had initially realized. In her eyes, this was a person who was not afraid to shed his mask, even in front of a simple casual friend like her, and that made her feel beholden.

"I really appreciate what you said, Kenta," she told him silently. "It makes me feel better that . . . that I'm not exactly alone in feeling this way."

Kenta coughed a little as he blushed again. "It's alright. Besides, that's one of the things about . . . about life that just makes me think sometimes: the fact that we're not as alone as we think we are. I mean, I thought earlier that just because Naoki and Daisuke left me out to dry, I was gonna be all alone, but then you came along and, um. . ."

Monika smiled. Kenta's words just kept striking her as oddly deep—odd considering they were coming from someone like him. But she beat down the thought and reprimanded herself for even trying to perceive Kenta from face value. _Just because he's always a joker doesn't mean he doesn't have deeper thoughts and feelings as well_. "I understand. Anyway, I know I've said this before, but I just want to thank you for helping me out and keeping me company."

Kenta shook his head as he laughed a little. "D-Don't mention it," he replied.

At that moment, her cellphone rang from inside her handbag. Monika took it out and saw that her driver was calling. "Hello, Mr. Fujita?" she answered.

Old Fujita's genial voice replied, "I'm in downtown now, Miss Monika. Where should I pick you up?"

"I'm here at the _Cocoa Connection_, as usual," said Monika. "Can you pick me up here?"

"Of course, Miss Monika," said Fujita. "I'll be there in five."

As Monika placed her cellphone back in her bag, she looked at Kenta. "Thanks again, Kenta."

"My p-pleasure," said Kenta. "And thanks, too. You know, for keeping me company and all. . ."

"You're very much welcome!" With that, Monika stood up, deciding to make her way downstairs and wait for her driver there. If truth be told, she enjoyed talking to Kenta and sharing a coffee with him as much as she had enjoyed their last trips downtown. Moreover, she felt that, had Fujita not called to interrupt them, she would have begun sharing more as well after what he had shared. _The moment had passed, however, and life must go on . . ._

_. . . Or had it passed indeed?_

"Kenta, do you want to do this again sometime?"

Kenta turned slightly pale. ". . . What?" he mumbled.

She smiled at him. "It's just an idea that came to me. I mean, you're a really nice guy and all, and I like the time that we spent together today. It made me feel less tired than I usually am, and I truly appreciate that. If you want, we can hang out again like this, like . . . once every week. How does that sound? That is, only if you want to, of course. . ."

"Uh, well, er . . . You see, I . . ." Now Kenta was truly tongue-tied. Monika could see how tightly he was gripping his now-empty glass of coffee jelly. "I don't k-know. . ."

"Now, now, be honest, Kenta!" she said half-sternly, half-amusedly. "Yes or no?"

Kenta swallowed nervously as he stared directly into her eyes. He seemed unable to look away—and in some way, neither could Monika. She held onto the gaze longer than Kenta did, however, as he bowed and scratched his head apprehensively.

At last, he sighed and smiled timorously. "Y-Yeah, okay. . ."

* * *

Around ten minutes later, as she sat in the back of her family's car, Monika looked out of the tinted windows and observed the city as best as she could, but the excitement that she was already feeling for next week was starting to overwhelm her. She couldn't stop smiling, and neither could she sit still. Kenta had escorted her as far as the front of the _Connection_, patiently waiting until Fujita had arrived to pick her up. When she had left him, Kenta looked happier than he had initially been earlier outside school.

It was a world of infinite choices, indeed, and Monika felt that she may have just picked her first one tonight. As soon as she would get home, she knew that her notebook would undoubtedly have a new poem added to it, but for now, she eagerly took out her cellphone and texted Kenta's number.


	9. Chapter 9 - Planning Ahead

**CHAPTER NINE**** – ****PLANNING AHEAD (MoniKenta)**

Kenta frowned and grimaced as he counted his money for the fourth time in the past five minutes. When he was finally sure that there was enough to get him by for his downtown trip—he didn't want to say "date"—with Monika the following day, he set them down on the table and took another look at his cellphone. There were no text messages from Monika or anyone else yet, so he sighed, picked up his money, and began counting again.

_More than enough_, he concluded for the fifth time. While Daisuke and Naoki would undoubtedly laugh at the sight of him counting over and over like a grumpy old miser, he had his reasons for doing so. Monika had been kind enough to tell Kenta through text that if they were going to eat out on their next downtown trip, she would be more than willing to treat him. As such, Kenta made a personal vow to start saving up portions of his weekly allowance and doing extra chores at home for extra dough to make sure that Monika wouldn't spend any of her money for him.

The prospect had been easy enough, and it even made his mother pleasantly surprised with the way he began doing his own laundry, cleaning rooms in the house and moving what furniture or objects needed moving. However, this surprise turned into suspicion for a time as his older sister Kanae, ever the amused skeptic, had rightfully guessed that he was doing chores to squeeze a bit more money into his allowance. Kenta refused to budge about what he would be spending the extra money on.

"You owe someone money, don't you?" his mother had asked him earlier at dinner, squinting doubtfully as she chewed her food. "Are you . . . involved in gambling or something?"

"Ma, for the nth time, _I don't owe anyone money, and I'm not involved in anything illegal!_" he had told her with peaking exasperation while Kanae snickered next to him. "I'm not spending the money on cigarettes or alcohol, and I sure ain't spending it on drugs! I just wanna have some extra cash at hand in case I . . . wanna buy something or hang out with my friends somewhere."

"Your friends or a girl?" his sister simpered.

"Will you please stop?" Kenta grumbled at her. "That's that, alright? I don't wanna answer any more questions if you're gonna keep doubting what I'm telling you guys!"

"Well, as long as you help with the housework and do your homework on time, I won't mind," his mother stated with a smile. "I mean, first there was the fact that your grades started looking up, and now this! It's a fresh change to see you becoming so . . . responsible all of a sudden."

"Yeah, unlike some people around here," Kenta muttered touchily.

"Hey, I have work to take care of, y'know?" Kanae shot back. "And yeah, little bro, it's always good to see you shoulder some responsibility around here. Dad would be proud!"

"Yeah, you guys better make sure you tell him that the next time he calls or video-chats!" he said smugly. "And I don't want you telling him that I'm doing this just to buy something or go out with a girl or do illegal stuff, alright?! Tell him that I'm being a more responsible human being now!"

Obviously, the part about going out with a girl was a lie, but Kenta chose to be completely mum about it, lest his ever-vigilant sister sniff it out completely. This was one of the few regrets he had with trying to court one girl after another all throughout middle school—with every rejection that came his way, he would come home all dejected and grumpy and reclusive, and it would reflect on his chores and grades for a couple of weeks at most. Since then, his mother and sister had been extra careful in monitoring him and any girl he might be interested in, fearing another one of his heartache incidents affecting his academics and overall character.

A quick beep made him glance towards his cellphone; Monika had finally texted. Eagerly, Kenta picked up his phone.

"_hello! sorry for the late reply, just finished eating dinner _:)_ where do you wanna go tomorrow?_"

Even in simple text messages, Monika chose to write out complete words instead of typed shortcuts. It made Kenta a bit conscious about the way he wrote his own text messages, but he found that he couldn't keep up the same thing even if he tried.

"_that's ok _:)_ wherever u want, it's fine w/ me!_"

"_but don't you wanna go someplace you like for a change? _:("

That made Kenta conscious. Then again, he didn't have the slightest idea of where to go with Monika around. Usually, the arcade and the mall would be his primary choices—these were the venues where their triumvirate often hanged out at. The mall was the safest choice, as he had gone there with Monika before when he helped her find a suitable birthday present for her mother.

"_how about the mall? dunno where else 2 go tho_ :( _u can shop while i'm around_"

"_the mall is always good, but I don't wanna bore you while i shop_ :( _any other place that u suggest is fine with me, honest _:)"

_Alright, time for a Code 10_. Kenta sent a quick group text to Naoki and Daisuke. "_hey u dolts, can u suggest a new hangout place in town 2 go 2_"

Daisuke was the first to reply, though as expected, it was in the form of a joke. "_the creek _XD"

To his relief, Naoki's reply was a bit more serious, even if it was a question. "_for wat, kenta?_"

Kenta scratched his head anxiously. After a quick retaliatory reply to Daisuke—"_sounds gr8, maybe i'll throw u in there one of these days_"—he began wondering whether to tell them about what had transpired earlier that week with him and Monika. Though he often liked sharing with them a few details of what usually happened during his few trips and school happenstances with her, he kept entirely quiet about their last trip downtown and at the _Cocoa Connection_. So far, it had been the most profound of his encounters with her, and Kenta had decided not to tell his friends about it yet in an effort to preserve how special it was in his mind.

Still, Kenta felt that he might be digging himself a grave if he didn't come clean right away. Besides, he also sensed that his buddies might be more inclined to help him out once they knew how serious of a matter this was. Then again, if Daisuke's "creek" reply was any indication, they could also end up ribbing him about it for a week or so before they decide to help him out. Kenta decided to tell Naoki first, at least.

"_going out w/ monika 2morrow, need place 2 go, DON'T TELL DAISUKE YET_"

Naoki's surprise was almost palpable in his next reply. ":O _HOLY MOLY WAT OK W8_"

After about a minute, another text message from Daisuke came in, causing Kenta's embarrassment to deepen. ":O :O :O _JEEZ MAN WHY DIDN'T U TELL US IT WAS A CODE 10_"

"_WTH NAOKI U DAMN TRAITOR I TOLD U DON'T TELL HIM YET_"

"_calm down kenta, u need all the help u can get! now, tell us wat u have in mind_"

Kenta sighed. _Looks like I don't need to dig myself a grave with these dolts around_.

* * *

At last, the meeting ended. Monika enthusiastically said goodbye to her fellow debate club members, exited the clubroom and quickly made her way towards her locker to drop off a few of her things. The excitement she was feeling was starting to build up again, and while she did her best to maintain her composure and to not smile while she spoke to her club members, she couldn't help but smile now. Part of her excitement stemmed from the fact that Kenta wanted their downtown trip's venue to be a surprise, and for most of the day, she wondered what that surprise would be. Regardless of the venue, she was sure that it'd be a really fun experience compared to going home immediately, as always.

Once she had deposited what she didn't need to bring home in her locker, Monika made her way towards the school gates where Kenta was waiting. As club meetings were often held after school hours, there were very few students left wandering around the school, most of them having gone home or downtown already for a fun Friday. Not wanting to keep Kenta waiting, Monika quickened her pace once she exited the school's front doors.

Kenta smiled nervously when he saw her approach. Monika waved at him. "I'm really sorry if the club meeting took a bit longer than you would've liked," she told him. "Did you wait long?"

"Not that long, don't worry!" said Kenta. "I totally understand."

"Thank you," said Monika appreciatively. "Um, shall we go?"

"S-Sure!"

With that, the two of them exited the school gates and began walking downtown. To have something to talk about on the way there, Monika decided to share what happened to her for the day and ask Kenta about how his day had been. Though he still seemed nervous, Kenta shared and replied openly about even the mundane parts of his day: a weird answer he gave during a Social Studies oral recitation session, a good score he had gotten for a Mathematics seatwork, and an upcoming activity for English. While these little details seemed trivial to some, Monika appreciated the way Kenta shared them with her, and she was glad that their texting sessions for the past week have made him more comfortable with talking to her, and vice versa.

"It's good to hear that you did well on that Math seatwork," Monika told him as they finally entered downtown. "Math tends to be the weakness of a lot of students, and I'm no exception."

Kenta nodded. "Really sucks sometimes, with the lines and numbers and symbols. That seatwork was probably just a lucky hit."

"Nonsense!" said Monika. "I don't want you to think that you're getting better grades now out of luck because you put in a lot of work to get those. Besides, you're doing a lot better than some other students I know!"

Kenta sighed. "Well, t-thanks. And sorry about that. I'm just not used to getting good grades in my subjects, not when I've flunked a ton of them in the past, so sometimes I think that I'm just lucky when I cook up a good score for a quiz or a seatwork."

"It's alright," Monika remarked supportively. "Just don't let yourself or other people bring down what you've accomplished, okay? We all deserve a bit of credit every now and then for our hard work."

"I'll try t-to remember that, thanks," said Kenta with a nervous grin.

She beamed back at him. "So, what do you have planned for today?" she asked him cheerfully.

"W-Well . . . Um, I was thinking . . . do you wanna go to the, uh. . ."

Kenta turned red as he began stammering, clearly unsure of what he wanted to say. It was a bit of a difference compared to the way he texted, where he sounded sure and confident—then again, Monika mused, people have time to think about what to say before they send a text message.

"It's alright, silly!" she told him encouragingly. "I told you yesterday that no matter what you have planned, I'll be totally happy with it!"

That, however, served to make Kenta even more nervous. "Well, the thing is, um . . . I wanted us to go to the m-mall again, but I kinda imagined that it's better if we went somewhere different f-for a change. I mean, I dunno if y-you usually go to this place or s-something, but. . ."

She leaned towards him, listening expectantly. Kenta took one look straight into her eyes and let out a long, defeated sigh. "Well, if you w-want, we can grab a quick bite at the night market first, and then we can go to the arb . . . arbor . . ."

He grimaced and snapped his fingers, as if trying to wrap his tongue around the syllables of whatever word he was trying to look for. Monika frowned, wondering whether Kenta wanted to say "harbor." Then again, the city didn't have a harbor, so she began speculating what particular place this was.

Kenta gave up after a few more seconds of trying with a cough. "That park with that beautiful . . . roofed thingy sitting on the big pond," he concluded lamely.

Realization dawned on Monika's face. "Oh, the arboretum!" she told him.

"Yeah, that's it!" Kenta exclaimed with relief. "Sorry about that, I didn't know how to pronounce it properly," he added with a laugh.

Monika laughed with him; something about the way he admitted so was positively adorable. "The 'roofed thingy' is called a gazebo, by the way," she added facetiously. "Anyhow, what made you want to go there?"

Kenta shrugged. "Well, um, I usually go for a jog around town during Sunday mornings. It's probably the only weekly exercise I can maintain. After an hour or two of that, I end it by going to the arb—um, that park—where I'll rest for fifteen minutes before going home. I dunno if you go there a lot, but the place is just really beautiful, and . . . it kinda helps me think on a few things, you know? Like, the atmosphere's really peaceful and stuff, with the trees and flowers and that . . . ga-zee-bo?"

She giggled again, this time at his pronunciation. "Very good!" said Monika.

Kenta smiled at her approval. "To be honest, I asked my buddies last night about other places that would be good for a visit. They told me that I should try going to the museum or just the night market, but the arb—_the park_—just came into my mind all of a sudden, and it was just a fresh change from the places I usually go to. I wondered whether you'd like to go there as well—b-but I didn't suggest it just because I think you're the only one who's gonna like it! I wanna go t-there, too!" he added quickly.

Monika had to laugh once again at the way he spoke so defensively. "Don't worry, Kenta, I believe you," she assured him once more as he patted him on the shoulder.

Their conversation went on until the two of them arrived at the night market. The sun had not fully set yet, so the colorful glow of the lanterns around them merged with the sun's orange glow. The number of people there began to swell by the minute, adding to the lively atmosphere as Monika walked with Kenta through the night market's cobbled road. Soon, the smells of freshly cooked street food began to entice Monika's taste buds, so the two of them made their way towards one of the many food stands in the area to grab a quick bite. Monika ordered some veggie korokke while Kenta chose takoyaki.

"Do you always go here, Kenta?" asked Monika as she took a small bite of korokke.

"Yeah, my sister Kanae goes here during Saturdays, and I help her carry some of the stuff she buys," replied Kenta through a mouthful of takoyaki. "We also hang out here when we're not at the mall or the arcade. My buddies, I mean."

"That's nice to hear," said Monika. "My friends usually go somewhere more sophisticated or posh when they hang out with me. Maybe they don't know that I really appreciate eating street food out here like this just as much as I like eating in a chic café or brasserie."

Kenta looked rather blankly at her as he swallowed. "Bra-siree?"

"Oh. Restaurant," replied Monika with a smile.

Kenta raised his eyebrows. "Now that's a real fancy word for 'restaurant,'" he admitted. "Really makes you wonder who even thought up of those types of words and stuff. Kinda like 'ga-zee-bo' or . . . 'arbor-reet-em,' eh?" He chuckled, and Monika giggled alongside him.

"Close enough," she said in between her laughs.

"Ah, 'close enough' is fine by me," said Kenta. "At least _you_ know how to pronounce them and other words like them. Me? Nada."

"Hey, you told me you were doing better in English!" Monika told him with a soft poke on his arm.

"Well, yeah, in a way," Kenta acknowledged as he ate more takoyaki. "But it hasn't affected my vocabulary yet. Whenever I try saying big words, people just think I stole them from a dictionary or something."

"You don't have to be able to pronounce complex words all the time just to appear good in English," said Monika comfortingly. "A lot of people think that saying those kinds of words all the time puts them above the rest of us, but what they don't know is that there are some people who say more with a lot less. Though I have to admit, the way you pronounce big words is . . . rather cute," she added in a mirthful tone.

Kenta's ears turned red. "T-Thanks for that," he said shyly.

* * *

By the time the two of them finished eating, it was already dark. More people were now out and about, and the night market's population of customers began to increase gradually. The city's voices—passing vehicles blowing their horns and the excited chatter of entire groups—began to swell in volume as well. Kenta decided that it was time for them to visit the arboretum now, so Monika let him lead the way out of the night market and on the way there. As they walked through the increasing press of people around them, Monika caught glimpses of many couples walking with their arms wrapped around each other, their faces tinged with joy and excitement, as if they did not have a single worry in the world. Monika could not help but feel a pang of longing at how free they all looked, though she pushed the thought down and exhaled determinedly when she remembered that she could also feel just as happy even with a simple casual friend like Kenta.

The arboretum was only starting to become more dazzling when they arrived there around five minutes later. Larger than most of the parks around town, it housed a large number of tall, pristine trees surrounded by beautiful shrubbery and vibrant flowers within its fences of carved stone and wrought iron. The stone road that cut through the area was flanked by tall iron lampposts which were now being turned on, providing a soothing glow of light even as the evening grew darker. Here and there were a few stone benches for passersby to sit on at their leisure. At the very middle of it all was a large pond, dotted with water lilies and teeming with koi, with a patch of land at its heart where a large gazebo sat, connected to the rest of the arboretum with wooden bridges. The gazebo itself had an immaculate design, made with varnished timber and the same whittled stone that fenced in the arboretum, its roof built with black slate, and its façade decorated with pretty lanterns and decorative carvings made into the timber.

Monika took the time to take in the sights around her, as she always did whenever she went here. Kenta had been right; even though there were some people walking about, the arboretum was so tranquil that it could easily put one's heart and mind to rest, and she sensed that it would be a perfect place to go to for poem-writing during a cold afternoon. She'd never tried doing so in the past, though she felt that after tonight, there could be more opportunities for that.

The two of them walked silently towards the gazebo, where most of the arboretum's visitors were. Many of the things that she saw—from a beautifully trimmed flowered shrub to a finely carved statue to a towering fir tree—soon had inspiration coursing through her veins. It made her want to run around the arboretum and laugh and simply be free, and Monika knew that she could do just that if she wanted, though she decided to do so in the figurative sense by writing a new poem in her composition notebook later instead.

Groups of people taking selfies and families watching the koi swim in the pond made up the bulk of the gazebo's guests. Indeed, the atmosphere there was so lively that Monika could feel her spirits lift even further. Kenta invited her to lean over one of the gazebo's balustrades to watch the koi swim among the water lilies with him. As they did so, dim lights began turning on underneath the water, lighting up the pond and giving them and other onlookers a glimpse of the fishes and whatever else was underwater like it was daytime. A couple of young girls exclaimed in delight as they stood on their tiptoes to glance over the gazebo's banister and into the water. Their parents, laughing, picked them up in their arms and sat them atop the railing so that they would get a better look. Monika smiled, enjoying this sight as much as she enjoyed watching the koi with Kenta from where they were standing. As they watched, Kenta also began making fish-related puns to further lighten up the mood, and Monika soon found herself laughing out loud at most of them in spite of how bad they sounded.

After a while, her cellphone began ringing and vibrating from within her bag. She frowned a bit as she reached in to take it out; she had told Fujita to pick her up slightly later for that evening, so she wondered who could be calling her at this time.

To her great surprise, it was her mother. Monika quickly answered the call. "H-Hello? Mom!" she said rather excitedly.

She turned to Kenta and signaled with her free hand to give her a moment. Kenta responded with a smile and a thumbs-up before he walked over to one side of the gazebo to give them some privacy.

Her mother sounded formal and serious as she replied, "How are you?"

"I'm fine! How about you and Dad?"

"We're doing just fine, dear," said her mother curtly. "We're at a business meeting right now. I just stepped outside the conference room to call, so we can't talk long. I want you to go tell Mrs. Fujita that we'll be sending the pay for the entire household later this week, along with your allowance. Mr. Fujita can just go withdraw them as usual when they're cleared."

"Oh, I see," said Monika, feeling a bit crestfallen at her mother's brusqueness. "I'll tell her when I get home, don't worry."

"Thank you, dear. I hope you're doing fine there." Though the words were a kind phrase any mother far from home would tell her daughter, Monika could feel how cold her mother said them—no warmth, all business, just like how her father spoke. "Anyway, I have to go—I can't excuse myself from the meeting for too long. We'll just call you again when we have some free time."

"Y-Yes, Mom. You and Dad take care. Bye!"

As she hung up and put her cellphone back in her bag, Monika couldn't help but feel dejected. She hadn't expected her mother or father to call this early, as they usually did so late into the month, hence her fleeting excitement earlier. But the shortness of the conversation and the way her mother spoke had put an end to that enthusiasm, and it broke her heart a little. Then again, she knew that she should have grown used to it by now—even the longer conversations she had with them weren't that warm and sincere as far as families go, as they were more like narrations of how the family business was doing and what her parents had planned for the next few weeks. Here she was, thinking naïvely that this conversation would at least be different from the rest, but she was wrong.

Monika bit her lip as quick tears trickled from her eyes. She hastily wiped them with the back of her hand, not wanting anyone to see how she looked at the moment. She did so a bit too late, however, as she heard Kenta's hushed voice.

"H-Hey, are you okay?"

Monika gave him a small smile. "Yes, I'm fine," she lied.

Kenta looked at her for a moment, his opal-colored eyes tinged with worry. Monika knew that he sensed otherwise, but that he was too shy to intrude into something so personal. "Well, I hope so," he said concernedly. "I mean, I know I'm n-not in any position to ask, but . . ."

His voice trailed off, as if he feared to say too much. Monika felt rather guilty about lying to him even as she knew that what happened was, indeed, a very personal matter that he didn't have any business in. To show Kenta that there was nothing wrong about what he was trying to say or do, she decided to fess up. "Well, as you heard earlier, Mom was the one who was calling. I thought we were gonna talk long, because she and Dad don't call very often, but . . . they're always busy, so we don't manage to talk much."

Kenta's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, t-they're not at home?" he asked.

Monika smiled sadly. "The thing is . . . they're never at home," she replied. "They're general contractors, so their work takes them to other prefectures most of the time. It's always been like that since I was in middle school. They only call me once or twice a month, sometimes only to ask how things are going at home. Just another reason why everything's so empty and tiring there sometimes."

Silence followed her words. She stared somberly out into the arboretum, the place's beauty giving her a bit of comfort. She placed a hand on the gazebo's balustrade and let out a sigh. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "This is just . . . just one of the things I've never told anyone about yet. I hope it didn't give you bad vibes, especially after the . . . the fun we've been having."

"Ah, it's alright!" Kenta remarked quickly. "I'm . . . I mean, I didn't . . . I just didn't . . . expect it to be s-something like that. I'm really sorry to hear about it. And I'm sorry as well for s-stepping into something so private and all."

"It's okay," said Monika kindly.

The two of them stared once again into the pond, watching the koi swim and bunch up together underwater. To distract from the sadness she was still feeling, Monika made a mental note to bring something to feed the koi the next time she would go back here. For now, she was wondering how to return to the same level of fun that she had been having with Kenta before her mother called.

Kenta broke the silence after a while. "You know, my dad's also not at home. He . . . He works at Okinawa as a business employee, lives there with a few of his friends from work as well. We can only talk to him through calls and video chats every few weeks."

It took Monika a moment before she replied, as Kenta's words had come out of nowhere. "But I'm sure he talks to you and your family longer than my parents do to me," she said ruefully.

Kenta shifted nervously next to her. "Well, I don't want to compare things l-like that." He let out a sigh. "Still . . . I dunno if I should say this, but I'm sure your folks love you even if they don't show it all the time. I know my words might not help a lot, but . . . w-well, I can just sense it. I mean, my dad might not tell me all the time that he cares about me, and sometimes he doesn't call us back, b-but . . . somehow I know that he cares, even if we tend to fight sometimes about my academics and when I mess around at home or in school. I mean, if he d-didn't care, then why would he bother telling me off about those things, right? And I t-think the same goes for y-your parents."

Such a private and optimistic admission made Monika shift her glance from the pond to Kenta. She saw that he was forcing himself to look downwards, avoiding her eyes. Though she knew that Kenta's sharing would not instantly solve the dilemma she had with her parents, she was touched by the fact that he shared something as private as his own family's situation to her in an effort to make her at least feel better about hers.

"Ah, I know that sounds a bit lame. I'm really sorry, I dunno how to say things like this to comfort people," Kenta muttered worriedly. "And I don't w-wanna comfort you by using my jokes, because I know that they won't be—"

"That's fine," said Monika appreciatively. "You're already doing enough, Kenta."

"Er . . . I am?" This time, he looked at her even as his face flushed.

Monika nodded. "Thank you for taking me here today, and for listening. I'm really grateful for it, in all honesty. If you weren't here with me, I might be just sulking the night away waiting for Mr. Fujita to arrive. I'll make it up to you sometime, I promise."

"W-Wait, you don't have t-to do that!" The redness on Kenta's face now clashed with the color of his hair. "I'm glad t-that I was able to help you feel better, and t-thank you as well for coming here with me."

Monika smiled at him. "If these are the surprises that you have in store whenever we go downtown, then I'll look forward to where our next trip's going to take us."

"Well, w-we can start planning now!" Kenta cried out both excitedly and anxiously. "I mean, only if y-you want to, so that we'll, um, you know—"

The words died in his throat, however, as Monika touched his arm gently. It was a kind gesture, a spur of the moment brought by the gratitude that she felt for Kenta's presence, but even so, she felt nervous about it. A staredown ensued, and Monika found herself somehow getting lost again in Kenta's opal-colored gaze. She held her composure better than he did, however, as Kenta's face was now in danger of being the same color as his hair. Before he could say or do anything, Monika spoke determinedly.

"Sunday."

Kenta didn't dare to move or reply—Monika sensed that it was because her hand was still on his arm. When she let go of it gently, Kenta gradually regained his ability to speak. "S-Sunday? Already?" He swallowed anxiously. "I mean, that's just more than a day away. . ."

"I know." Monika winked. "But it's technically next week!"

Kenta frowned for a moment, casting his eyes upward at nothing in particular as he began to think. "Oh," he said as comprehension dawned on him. "Yeah, f-first day of the week and all. . ."

He looked sheepish now, as if he had just failed to understand one of the most obvious things in the universe. Monika began giggling at his reaction, prompting Kenta to start laughing nervously as well. "Where are we gonna go this Sunday, t-then?" he asked her.

"Well, you have more than a day to figure that out!" she replied.

"Oh, come on!" Kenta said despairingly. "I m-might mess things up!"

"Kenta." Monika put on a jokingly strict expression on her face. "What do I keep telling you about the places we go to?"

". . . T-That it doesn't matter where we go, because you're f-fine with it?" he stuttered.

"Exactly," she said with a nod. "And again, if it's anything like tonight, there's no way you can disappoint me!"

For a moment, Kenta looked as if he would retort or implore her to reschedule their next downtown trip, but he only managed to stare and mouth wordlessly at her as she pouted at him. It wasn't a fully serious or angry pout—Monika only did it to drive her point across about having him believe more in himself, even in jest, but the effect it had on Kenta was instantaneous. She wondered whether or not he was taking her expression as a true gesture of frustration with the way he began to look afraid. To ease things up, she began giggling again, as she found that she couldn't maintain the pout for too long.

"Okay, okay," she said brightly. "Since you were the one who thought up of where to go for this week, I'll be the one to choose where we're gonna go for Sunday."

The relief on Kenta's face was evident. "Alright, s-shoot!"

Monika looked towards the rest of the arboretum for a while, letting the sights and attractions help her gather her thoughts. Meanwhile, Kenta looked at her expectantly, a tinge of anxiety gleaming in his eyes as he waited in silence for her answer. Just then, an idea struck Monika as she realized that the venues for their trips didn't exactly matter—rather, it was what she would be doing with Kenta that would make up the bulk of how enjoyable their trips would be, and that this was what caused her to enjoy their arboretum visit greatly.

"Well, since you took the initiative of making our little trip here to the arboretum a surprise . . . our Sunday trip's gonna be a surprise, too!" she said cheerfully.

Kenta stared at her for a few moments. As the seconds ticked by, Monika fought hard not to laugh

". . . Now I'm in for it," he muttered at last. "Please, Monika, I don't d-do well with things like this. Can't you give me even just a teeny, tiny hint? _Please_?"

Monika laughed. "No," she said with a playful tone. "But if you convince me tonight or tomorrow, I just might tell you!"

She giggled again as Kenta turned away, his face and ears turning crimson under the light cast by the gazebo's many lanterns. Her cheerfulness kept growing, and the same level of excitement she had felt earlier that day in anticipating her downtown trip with Kenta returned in full force. As Kenta began doing and saying what he could to convince her to reveal what it was that she was planning, Monika smiled to herself. It was as if her mother had never called earlier, and the sadness she had been feeling vanished completely, leaving only thrilled delight.

_Another day, another poem. Thank you, Kenta_.


	10. Chapter 10 - Painting Images

**CHAPTER TEN**** – ****PAINTING IMAGES (SayoHiro)**

Akihiro sighed as he rubbed his eyes wearily. He had taken to finishing his homework in the school library as soon as he learned that they were given a free period. It gave him enough time to continue with his _Dungeon Delvers _campaign later tonight, and as a plus, he'd manage to already cut his work for the rest of the week in half. The only things remaining for him to tackle would be an essay for Social Studies and a research paper for History, all due on Friday.

It was very quiet in the library. Apart from Akihiro, there were only around five other students inside the library, huddled around one table near the windows, poring over books and doing research for their own schoolwork. The librarian was quietly sorting out a few library cards over at a filing cabinet, casting a glance every now and then at the nearby wall clock as she did so. Akihiro had arrived here at around three o'clock, and it was now only about two minutes before four. Quietly, he stowed away his notebooks into his backpack and decided to just wait things out instead of leaving the library.

The school bell rang not long afterwards. The other students in the library quickly stood up and began clearing away the books they had taken from the nearby shelves, chatting excitedly. The librarian, who seemed rather relieved that it was dismissal time, didn't even bother to remind them to be quiet as she made her way back to her desk. Akihiro did not stand up immediately, but he slung his backpack over his shoulder nonetheless as he waited. He took his cellphone out of his pocket and saw that he had one text message from Sayori.

"_on my way _:)"

Sayori arrived five minutes after he saw her text message. She quickly ran in and plopped her bag down on the table where Akihiro was at, panting slightly. "That was pretty exhausting," she remarked. "Math really sucks when it's the last class for the day."

"I hope you didn't fall asleep again," Akihiro remarked.

"W-Well, I almost did," Sayori replied with a small laugh. "But hey, am I really that bad at staying awake in class?" she added with a pout.

"Remember that one time you dozed off in the locker room during P.E. in sophomore year?" said Akihiro.

Sayori looked as if she was about to retort, but instead she smiled sheepishly as she dwelt on Akihiro's words. "Point taken."

Akihiro sighed as he stood up. "You really need someone to keep watch on you, Sayori. Anyway, if you're not doing anything else for today, let's—"

"Wait, I need to go downtown!" said Sayori excitedly. "I need to buy a few things for this Friday. Can you help me?"

"Help you carry all the stuff you're gonna buy, you mean?" asked Akihiro, striding over to the library door as Sayori followed. "I think I'll pass."

"That's mean!" Sayori cried out as they strode out into the school hallway. "I helped you last week when you were researching for your Moral Studies paper!"

"Yeah, but don't forget that I help you clean up at your place almost weekly, and I wait for you so that you have someone to walk with to school _every day_, and that time when you almost burned your apartment building down when you tried to cook on your own." Even as he said these things, Akihiro could not help but smile; he did not state such things to bring Sayori's mood down, but he did like pointing them out every once in a while just to see how she would react.

"Alright, alright," said Sayori with another pout. "If you don't want to help me, I'll manage on my own. Alone. Without my best friend to help me."

She said the last phrase with a childishly resentful tone as she glanced sideways at him, her vividly blue eyes looking dejected despite her cheerful demeanor. Akihiro sighed as they went out the school's main entrance. When he looked at her, Sayori was still looking petulant. For a moment, he wondered whether she was giving him the puppy-dog-eyes treatment just to get him to help her.

"Okay, okay, I'll help you," Akihiro relented after a few quiet moments. "Sheesh, you don't have to give me that look whenever I say I don't wanna help you."

Sayori's face brightened almost instantly. "Yay! Thank you, Akihiro!"

Akihiro sighed, but he smiled nonetheless at Sayori's joy. "What am I gonna do with you, Sayori . . ."

Akihiro Hasegawa and Sayori Matsuzaki had been best friends since they were seven years old. Starting out as next-door neighbors and then as elementary school classmates, the two of them had practically grown up together. Akihiro lived alone in an apartment unit, taking up high school in Kanto while his parents worked at Fukushima in the nearby region of Tohoku; Sayori lived in the same condition, though her parents lived farther off in Nara at Kansai and thus rarely managed to visit. As such, Sayori relied mostly on Akihiro for company outside of school, and stuck with him even if she had friends to bond with at school. Akihiro was more than willing to oblige her, even if meant helping her often with mundane things like eating outside, walking to school and buying things.

The street downtown was relatively quiet for the afternoon. A few people walked along, with a small number of other students from the school browsing around some shops. Akihiro and Sayori made their way towards one of the city's school supplies stores, which incidentally sat right next to one of their favorite cafés, the _Drive Brew_. As they passed by the café, Akihiro could feel his stomach rumble slightly as the smells of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries momentarily wafted around him. Sayori glanced at him sideways but turned away relatively quickly when he looked at her. Akihiro could see that she was blushing a bit.

"Lemme guess," Akihiro mumbled. "You want us to eat here after you buy your stuff."

"Well," Sayori began, "I was thinking about t-that, yeah . . ."

"And I'm gonna be paying for it."

"Ah!" He could tell that Sayori was once again caught off-guard by his inferences. "N-No! What made you s-say that?" she stammered, smiling nervously.

Akihiro looked at Sayori with a half-serious, half-amused expression. "How much money do you have right now?"

"Ah, w-w-well . . ." Sayori seemed unable to reply properly to that. Instead, she began giggling.

"Sayori," said Akihiro. "If you want us to eat here afterwards, all you have to do is be honest."

"U-Um . . ." In all aspects, Sayori looked as if she could not bring herself to be honest. She turned a shade redder than before. "Well, I, um . . . I d-don't h-have . . ."

The last words seemed inaudible, but Akihiro knew he was already correct before Sayori even stated her reply. "Fine, let's eat here afterwards, my treat." _Again_.

Sayori scratched her head apologetically. "I'm really sorry, Akihiro. It's just that m-my weekly allowance hasn't arrived yet, and I've only got enough money to buy these things for now. . ."

"Yeah, yeah, it's alright," Akihiro sighed.

Sayori patted him on the arm. "Don't worry, I'll make it up to you when I get my allowance for the week," she said timidly.

"You don't have to, you know." Even as he joked around with Sayori regarding the favors he kept doing for her, Akihiro truly never expected anything in return. He felt fine enough helping his best friend.

"N-No!" Sayori turned back to being red. "You always help me, and it feels like I'm already taking advantage of our friendship all the time! I'll make it up to you this Friday, I promise!"

Again, Akihiro couldn't help but smile. Sayori always liked looking out for him when it came to matters like this, and she never hesitates to pay her debts. "Alright, alright. Friday, then."

Sayori beamed at him.

* * *

Their school supplies trip took shorter than Akihiro had expected, even with the list of things to buy. These included a few rolls of decorative paper, an illustration board, a few paintbrushes and a few colorful canisters of poster paint. As he had predicted, Akihiro soon found himself carrying everything as they circled the store to look for everything, and he was still carrying everything when they left—though this time with all the things inside plastic bags. Sayori would apologize profusely whenever she saw him carrying her things, but Akihiro was fine with it.

They entered the _Drive Brew_ as soon as they left the school supplies store. Quite a few people were sitting down and having coffee to ward off the late afternoon chill. A few were poring over their laptops and cellphones as they sat in silence on the café's leather-topped seats, while some were simply chatting away with one another. Akihiro picked a table near the café's windows and laid their bags and things down at the chairs. Sayori, on the other hand, waited for him at the line leading to the cashier.

"What do you wanna order?" asked Akihiro as he perused the café's menu. "The usual?"

"I dunno . . ." Sayori muttered, frowning as she looked at the menu. "I kinda want to try their strawberry shortcake again, but their chocolate mousse cake looks like it'll sit well with their latte . . ."

"Oh, right, I forgot," said Akihiro jokingly. "You turn into a connoisseur when it comes to food." He felt a small stab of pain as Sayori pinched his arm.

"You're just a really big meanie sometimes, you know that?" she said with a pout.

"Of course I'm just kidding, dummy," said Akihiro with a laugh. "Anyway, you better start picking fast, we're up next."

In the end, Sayori settled for the chocolate mousse cake and a hazelnut latte, while Akihiro went for a chunky chicken sandwich with iced tea. Almost as soon as they sat down to eat, Sayori took the plastic bag of school supplies she had bought and began rummaging through it, as if to check if she had forgotten anything.

"That's an awful lot of stuff there," said Akihiro as he took a big bite from his sandwich. "What's that for? Art class?"

Sayori did not respond. She merely stared at the contents of the plastic bag she was holding, and Akihiro saw her lips move slightly like she was mumbling something under her breath.

"Uh, Sayori?" Akihiro raised his voice slightly. "Earth to Sayori."

Sayori only snapped out of her trance when Akihiro snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Ah! D-Did I space out again?" she asked, startled.

"Yeah, kinda," said Akihiro. "I was asking you what those are for."

"Oh, yeah, they're for Art class," said Sayori with a small laugh. She set down the plastic bag and began poking at her cake with her fork. "We're supposed to create some sort of self-portrait as a small project due this Friday."

"Oh, really? I don't think we've gotten that far yet in our Art class," said Akihiro through another bite of his sandwich.

"Yeah, and I dunno what I'm supposed to do," Sayori mumbled as she scooped a big piece of chocolate mousse cake into her mouth. "I don't even know how to draw caricatures of my own face, what more with a self-portrait, right? Are we, like, supposed to use a mirror for that or—"

Akihiro laughed a little. "You're not supposed to take 'self-portrait' literally, you know?"

"Eh?" Sayori look slightly surprised. "Then why is it called a 'self-portrait,' then?"

Akihiro put his sandwich down. He took a gulp of iced tea before answering. "I think it's supposed to be a way of how you would interpret yourself through art. Sure, the term 'self-portrait' originally referred to a picture of 'you' done by you, but in more recent times, I assume it takes on a more figurative approach."

"How is that?" Sayori inquired through another bite of cake.

Akihiro glanced outside the café windows thoughtfully. Silhouettes of people walking by on the sidewalk cast shadows on the glass panes. "Well, for starters . . . I don't think you'd be able to put yourself on a painting, what with your looks and all . . ." he remarked jestingly.

"Eh?!" Sayori jabbed her fork at him. "Stop being mean to me! I mean, I know I'm not always the neatest person around but that's just r-rude, Akihiro!"

Akihiro laughed. Sayori was remarkably easy to put in a self-portrait, even one in the literal sense. With her apricot-colored short hair, the large red hair bow that she always wore and her bright blue eyes, Sayori was easy on the eyes and even easier on the emotions. She was always carefree, emphatic and ready to help whenever Akihiro needed her—though to be fair, she also tended to be absentminded, silly and slow sometimes. Akihiro knew all of this based from experience, and Sayori's traits were often the butt of his jokes to her most of the time.

Akihiro decided to poke more fun at her. "Well, yeah! I mean, the uncombed hair, the sleepy little eyes, that tight-fitting blazer that you still wear every day for school, I'm sure you'll find it easy to draw yourself! Just think of all the cartoonish styles you can experiment with—"

He stopped to laugh at Sayori's expression, which was now open-mouthed in resentment. "_You big meanie!_" she cried out, balling her hands into fists. She brandished her fork like a weapon. "It's not my fault my blazer won't fit me anymore! I mean, it d-did when I first bought it, but still—"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Akihiro interjected as he laughed some more. Though he enjoyed watching Sayori's childlike annoyance at him, other people in the café were starting to cast glances at them. "Jeez, you know I wouldn't make fun of you just to hurt you, right?"

Sayori fidgeted with her fork as she looked at Akihiro petulantly. Warmed by her reaction, Akihiro reached across the table and patted her on the arm. "Hey, I'm only joking about what I said, alright? Besides, who am I to judge? It's not like I'm practically a diligent person myself, or a good student—"

"You're good in English, though!" Sayori retorted. "And History's just a breeze for you!"

"Yeah, but I suck at Mathematics and Science like you do," said Akihiro. "You're good at Arts, plus you're doing pretty well in Social Studies."

Sayori pouted, looking as if she was thinking of other arguments to make. Akihiro went on. "Besides, even if you say I'm good, I'm still a slacker most of the time. _Dungeon Delvers _takes up a lot of my time, and sometimes I sleep as late as 2 A.M. when I should be waking up at 6 A.M. for school. You might like oversleeping, but we're not leagues apart in that aspect. And don't forget the time I slacked off so much I forgot that I still had that one History paper to take care of. Remember that?"

Sayori smiled. "How could I forget that? You were running around trying to look for books you can use the day before the deadline. Well, serves you right for trying to finish _Lost Souls _within three nights. _And _I managed to get a higher grade than you did—as I rightfully should!"

"Hey, at least I passed," Akihiro pointed out. "_And _I managed to beat _Lost Souls _within the deadline I set. That takes a lot of skill."

"But seriously, though," Sayori went on, and this time she looked worried. "You should take better care of yourself, Akihiro, both for school and for your body. You always sleep really, really late when you play, and remember that time when you skipped your first class because you overslept?"

"Look who's talking about oversleeping . . ." Akihiro mumbled mulishly.

"Okay, okay, I know I oversleep," Sayori added quickly, blushing. "But my point is that it won't be too good for you in the long run. I've read a lot of things online about the bad stuff that happens to someone who always sleeps late and wakes up too early or too late. If you keep doing that, you might end up skipping even more classes, and I . . . I don't want you to become a NEET a few years from now simply because you flunked a lot of classes or didn't change your bad habits . . ."

She stopped for a moment as she seemingly realized that she was now droning on. She sighed. "I'm just . . . Akihiro, you know I'm just looking out for you, right? Like I always do, and like you've always done for me . . ."

Akihiro stared at her, seeing once more one of the traits that endeared her a lot to him: her concern for others. Sayori liked helping and taking care of her friends—and Akihiro most of all—even if there were times when she couldn't even take care of her own self. It was mostly why Akihiro looked out for her in return.

"I know that," Akihiro replied gently. "And I really appreciate that. It's just . . . a bad habit that needs to die, that's all."

"Promise me you'll try sleeping earlier from now on?" Sayori's concerned expression never left her face.

Akihiro smiled. "Only if _you _promise not to oversleep from now on."

Sayori frowned. "Akihiro," she said a bit sternly.

"Sayori," Akihiro retorted. Sayori sighed. For a few moments, no one budged as the two of them entered a staring contest of sorts. In the end, Sayori relented.

"Okay, you got me," she said with a sigh and a smile. "It's a deal."

* * *

The afternoon sun receded for the evening, casting a purplish orange glow across town as Akihiro walked Sayori home. After he had explained the interpretational possibilities of a self-portrait, Sayori had become enthusiastic about going home and starting her self-portrait. To ease her worries that she didn't need to paint herself perfectly per se, Akihiro had given Sayori the advice of painting images, shapes or colors that she feels would fit her personality the best, and to not dwell on anything that would seem to confine or downplay her thoughts and emotions.

Downtown passed, and the two of them soon turned into the streets of the quiet neighborhood they lived in. Very few people were walking along, and lights began turning on in some houses as the evening drew on. Akihiro was thankful that he had managed to cut his work in half for the week earlier, because it helped him spare some time to help Sayori downtown as she'd asked. Had he taken the lazy and unproductive approach, Akihiro would've been left with more homework than he'd have liked. Then again, going after a few hours of _Dungeon Delvers _seemed lazy and unproductive as well, especially after he'd agreed to Sayori's deal.

When the two of them were outside Sayori's apartment, Akihiro looked around. "So, you're gonna go straight to work on that self-portrait, huh?"

"Well, yeah," said Sayori, bracing one hand on the apartment's gate. "Thanks for helping me. Again, I might add."

Akihiro shook his head. "You know I'm always gonna be ready to help you, dummy," he remarked. "Um . . . I guess this means that I won't be able to talk to you for tonight."

Sayori raised her eyebrows. "Of course you'll still be able to talk to me, silly! I won't be _that _busy!"

"But won't you get . . . you know, distracted or something?"

Sayori smiled. "Well, that can't be helped," she acknowledged. "But I'll feel better doing this project while talking to you instead of taking on it all alone. Don't worry; I won't distract you from your gaming session tonight!"

Again, Akihiro shook his head, but this time he smiled back. "_Dungeon Delvers _is an awesome game, but my best friend is my top priority. Even if I don't have a choice to choose otherwise sometimes," he added jokingly.

Sayori stamped her foot. "Now you're making me feel bad again, you big meanie," she said, glowering grumpily at him.

"_Just joking_, dummy," said Akihiro, laughing. "Can't help it, it's really a cute thing to see when you get mad at me for teasing you."

At that, Sayori fidgeted nervously where she stood, turning her head away from Akihiro as if she was trying to look somewhere else. She giggled in what appeared to be a nervous manner, and Akihiro saw that she was starting to blush.

"Sayori?" asked Akihiro. "Are you okay?"

"Ah! O-Of course I am!" said Sayori as she began to giggle a bit. "Er, it's getting late . . . You should, um, you know . . ."

Akihiro raised his eyebrows at her. "Sayori, did you drink too much coffee at the café?" he asked in an amused tone.

"Ah! What are you s-saying?" Sayori exclaimed, her giggle growing a little louder. "I'm fine, alright? Just go already, we'll talk later tonight! Bye!"

Before Akihiro could even crack another joke, Sayori rushed into the apartment and closed the door as quickly as she could. Left standing next to the gate, Akihiro wondered if he had said anything to make her so jumpy.

"A-Alright, chat you later," Akihiro mumbled sheepishly. With a shrug, he began to walk home.

* * *

The evening progressed well enough. Back at his apartment, Akihiro had already taken a bath and readied himself for _Dungeon Delvers _when he saw that Sayori had messaged him on Facebook. Akihiro saw that she was panicking slightly.

"_i dunno what i'm supposed 2 do pls help _:("

"_calm down ok just remember the stuff i told u_"

"_but i dunno how 2 start it_ :("

"_ok ok just think of the first thing that comes into ur mind_"

"_about wat?_"

"_about urself dummy_"

":("

Akihiro scratched his head. It was during times like these when he wished that he could teleport to Sayori just to get things over with. For a moment, Akihiro sensed that his planned evening with _Dungeon Delvers _was in jeopardy.

"_do u want me 2 come over_"

As he pressed "Enter," Akihiro wondered whether he really meant what he had offered. Sayori's next reply—another ":("—didn't exactly help his thoughts, either.

"_i'm serious Sayori, do u need help_"

It took a few moments before Sayori replied. "_if it's not too much 2 ask…_:("

Akihiro sighed.

* * *

For the duration of Akihiro's five-minute walk to her place, Sayori was cursing herself over and over. _This is really selfish. I told him I wouldn't interrupt his gaming session, but. . . _She glanced helplessly around her, the cold night air not helping her nerves. She braced her arms around herself, her simple pink shirt, blue shorts and fluffy slippers not enough to ward off the evening's chill. _I have no one else to turn to for this. Why, me? Why?_

The light of a street lamp a few meters away alerted her of Akihiro's arrival. Sayori quickly ran forth to meet him. Akihiro was wearing a black jacket along with his favorite jersey shorts and sneakers, and he looked slightly crabby. Sayori's face fell when she saw his expression.

"I'm really, really, _really _sorry, Akihiro!" she exclaimed as soon as she had gotten near him. "I was completely thrown for a loop when I sat down to start, and I really didn't know w-what to do!"

When Akihiro didn't reply, she feared that she had overstepped her boundaries for real this time. She bowed her head, hesitating to look into his face. She knew that she was growing redder from embarrassment and pressure with each passing second, and that she would only be staring at Akihiro's disapproval if she looked up. For a few moments, she did nothing but stare at her own feet and the ground as Akihiro stood in front of her.

"I'm r-really s-s-sorry . . ." she repeated softly as she fidgeted with her hands. "If you don't want to help me, you can just go home . . ."

Then and there, Sayori wanted nothing more than to dissolve into the pavement. She closed her eyes tightly, regretting ever asking for help. Many of the favors Akihiro had done for her before rushed into her mind, as if demanding payment from her: Akihiro treating her earlier that day at the café, Akihiro taking the time to help her review for a long quiz in History; Akihiro patiently waiting for her so that they could walk to and from school together, Akihiro—

"Jeez, Sayori," Akihiro mumbled. "I'm not mad at you, okay?"

Sayori opened her eyes. Without thinking, she glanced up quickly at Akihiro's face. Akihiro was grinning apologetically.

"I knew that if I came over looking really grumpy, you'd panic even more," he said, scratching his head. "It worked, but . . . I think I took it too far. . ."

Sayori did not move. She didn't even know whether to feel relieved or confused or angry. Instead, she stared open-mouthed at Akihiro's face: his spiky brown hair, his pale green eyes, his overall relaxed demeanor. When she didn't budge, Akihiro reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Like I said earlier, my best friend is always my top priority," he said. "It'd be rich of me to say that and then bail out on you an hour after I said it. Anyway, I kinda figured that you'd be having trouble with your homework, just not _this _early," he added with a smirk.

Sayori finally found her speaking voice again. "You're n-not mad . . .?"

Akihiro ruffled Sayori's hair. "There you go again, dummy," he said. "If I'm angry at you for real, I don't think I'll be able to keep it up for long, not while I'm staring at you while you're about to cry or something . . ."

Sayori bit her lip. The way that Akihiro was smiling at her and reassuring her, it overwhelmed her with relief. Gratefully, she smiled back. "But what about your _Dungeon Delvers _session?" she asked anxiously.

"Ah, my character's already at level 23, he can wait for a few more hours," said Akihiro, waving his other hand about. "Besides, since you like reminding me a lot about being diligent in schoolwork, it's better if I continue the productive streak I started earlier by helping you with _your_ schoolwork."

"Now you're just being silly," Sayori remarked softly.

"Oh, so does that mean you don't want me to become productive?" asked Akihiro. He let go of her shoulder and turned around, as if to start walking back. "Well, if you say so. I guess I'll just go back home now."

"Eh?!" Sayori practically pounced after him and grabbed his arm. "No, that's not what I meant, silly! I just . . . j-just . . ."

Akihiro let out a short sigh. He turned to her and grasped both of her shoulders this time. Sayori found herself staring once more into his green eyes, and his face took on a jokingly stern expression. "One question, one answer. Do you want to get this over with?" he asked.

With a final blush, Sayori nodded.

* * *

As she set her paint brush down, Sayori marveled at how . . . _beautiful _her self-portrait turned out to be. Here and there were swirls of blue, streaks of red, spirals of yellow, and two circles of green at the center. Overall, the illustration board looked like a real piece of modern art—at least in Sayori's eyes. Akihiro had stood by and given her advice when she faltered on ideas, remarking that instead of thinking what she should be projecting onto the board, she should instead _feel _it, as she was projecting her own emotions and traits through paint like all artists do. Instead of voicing her amazement at her handiwork, however, she decided to state its flaws first.

"It looks messy," said Sayori quietly, fidgeting with her paintbrush.

"Ah heck, it looks fine to me," said Akihiro with a shrug. "Some types of modern art we have today don't even have this much effort. Besides, it's really . . . _you_, in a way."

"In what way?"

"Messy and disorganized, like you, like your room," Akihiro mumbled jestingly. "Kidding aside, though. Don't beat yourself up if it seems to look bad, alright? Art is meant to be interpreted, especially since it's basically a mish-mash of the painter's thoughts and feelings, and like I said, that's basically the figurative purpose of a self-portrait."

"You really think it doesn't look bad?" asked Sayori.

"Sayori, I'm gonna keep repeating myself if you keep this up," said Akihiro. "It looks good enough on its own, and it's even better when you know it's a self-portrait."

Sayori looked at her work again and began looking for parts where the colors spoke her thoughts and feelings. As she looked at every stroke she had made on the illustration board, she somehow began noticing what Akihiro had meant. To others, and from a technical viewpoint, the overall image of her self-portrait seemed to be purely abstract, though with a bit of scrutiny from her part, Sayori should be able to find a way to put into proper words what she had made. Indeed, when she was painting everything, her mind had already organized everything into a basic premise.

Instead of voicing an on-the-spot interpretation out loud, though, she turned to Akihiro.

"What do you make out of it?"

Sayori could tell that her question caught Akihiro off guard; he raised his eyebrows in surprise, and for a moment he looked uncomfortable. "Why are you asking me . . . ?" he muttered.

"I wanna hear what you have to say about it, if you really think that it's not bad at all," replied Sayori. "Besides, you're the one who told me about painting what I feel, right? Putting into colors the thoughts and emotions I have, stuff like that?"

Akihiro scratched his head. "Ah, well, you're right, but . . . um . . ."

"Come on, Akihiro!" pleaded Sayori as she clasped her hands together. "Please . . . ? I mean, you're the one who knows me best, right? And besides, I'd rather show this to y-you first than at school with my classmates . . ."

This time, Akihiro was the one fidgeting. He cast one more glance at her and let out a long sigh before he spoke. "You know, I need to find a way to stop saying 'yes' to those puppy-dog eyes of yours . . ."

_My what?_

Before she could say anything to that, however, Akihiro had already begun analyzing her self-portrait quietly. A few times, Sayori saw him narrowing his eyes in a squint, as if he was trying to see something she couldn't. The longer he took, the more nervous Sayori became about her self-portrait.

Finally, Akihiro began speaking again. "Well, for starters, the blue part reminds me of your . . . hmm . . . your peaceful self? I dunno, it's just that when I look at blue, I think of peace and calm, and those little wavelike patterns you did seem to speak that way. . . The red part is your determination . . . I mean, you may not have that much red on there, but the way you swept your brush, like, vigorously when you were coloring those parts, I think that speaks a lot. The yellow parts . . . your happiness, maybe . . . I mean, look at all that yellow, right? Anyone who knows you would know that you're practically happy-go-lucky . . . The green ones . . . I dunno about those, though . . . love of nature, perhaps?"

All the while, Sayori had been watching in amazement at how much Akihiro had read into the self-portrait. Akihiro, however, didn't seem to think much of his interpretation. "Did I even make sense? And I really can't get what the green parts mean," he mumbled.

"Ah!" Sayori snapped back to reality. "Yes, you did!" She exhaled a sigh of relief. "And don't worry too much about that part, you already did great with the other parts."

"Ah, well, I tried my best," said Akihiro with a small laugh. "Just remember, it doesn't look bad, alright? You'll do fine this Friday when you present it."

"You really t-think so?" Sayori stammered nervously.

"I know so, dummy," said Akihiro. He looked around for a moment. "I guess now's the time to help you clean everything up."

True enough, Sayori's room looked messier than it usually was now that other things were all over the place: paint canister lids, paintbrushes of various sizes, and scrap papers where she had wiped off excess paint from them. All this compounded with the sight of Sayori's pillows scattered on the floor, a few of her stuffed animals that had fallen from her bed and some of her schoolbooks and notebooks as well. Whenever Akihiro came by to visit, he always helped her put everything in order, though Sayori's absentmindedness often meant that everything was back the way it was after only one night.

This time, however, Sayori would have no more of Akihiro's favors. "I'll take care of that later. You've helped me a lot today, Akihiro. You d-don't need to do anything m-more. . ."

Akihiro looked at her. "You're being silly again, you know that?"

"I'm not, okay?" Sayori stood up, determination coursing through her. "I've asked too much of you already, and I keep lecturing you about being more responsible. Well, guess what? I'm going to be more responsible now as well!"

As if to prove her point, she quickly began picking up her things from the floor, even though all she could manage was to throw them haphazardly at her bed in a pile. Akihiro watched her silently, a look of what seemed to be amazement prevalent on his face.

"Well, if that is the case, then I guess we'll see each other tomorrow," said Akihiro, grinning. He stood up and made his way to the door. "Unless you're not gonna go to sleep yet, in which case we can still chat online."

"Don't worry, I won't be sleeping yet!" replied Sayori as she held a notebook in one hand and a teddy bear in the other. "I still need to take a bath."

"So that's why I could smell you all this time," Akihiro mumbled.

"Meanie!" Sayori cried out, throwing the teddy bear at him. Akihiro laughed as the stuffed toy bounced harmlessly off his side. "Take care, okay?" she called out as he opened the door to leave.

"It's just a five-minute walk, Sayori," said Akihiro as he nudged the fallen teddy bear towards her with his foot. "It's not like I walk halfway across town just to get to you."

"I know, I know," said Sayori. "Chat you later, and thank you!"

When Akihiro had finally closed the door behind him, Sayori dropped the things she was still holding and sat down on the bed, staring at the door. The room suddenly seemed dismal now that Akihiro had gone, and everything seemed ten times quieter. She glanced at her side and looked at her self-portrait. Careful not to smudge the still-wet ink with her fingers and thumbs, she picked it up and perused it once more, taking in every color and line and stroke. In complete silence, she replayed everything Akihiro had interpreted about her work, down to his confusion as to what the two green circles were.

A wistful smile crossed Sayori's face. _They're your eyes, Akihiro_.


	11. Chapter 11 - Friday Fun

**CHAPTER ELEVEN – FRIDAY FUN (SayoHiro)**

The last two days of the week seemed to drag on by for Akihiro. A grueling quiz for History and a pop quiz for Science had left him reeling yesterday. Thankfully, Friday decided to end on a boring but easy note with a particularly tedious discussion for Social Studies. As their professor droned on and on about sociology and humanities and other such things, Akihiro watched the classroom's wall clock tick away the school week's last few minutes.

At last, the bell rang, and almost immediately everyone seemed to be given new life. Their professor called out his last few reminders for next week's activities before promptly leaving the classroom, leaving 3-B to enthusiastically pack up their things and leave. An excited buzz of words and laughter filled the room as students began planning what to do or where to go for tonight and for the weekend. Akihiro didn't need to join any of them; Sayori already had something planned for the two of them.

A vibration in his left pocket told him that his phone had received a text message. Akihiro looked and saw that it was from Sayori.

"_front door_ :)"

Without replying, Akihiro slung his backpack over his right shoulder and quickly walked out of the classroom, joining the throng of other students exiting the school. Just like she had said, Sayori was standing next to the school's main entrance by the time he got there. She beamed at him.

"Guess what?" she said excitedly.

"What?"

"My self-portrait did well!" Sayori exclaimed her reply as if she could no longer contain it. "They had us explain it in front of the class one by one, and our professor told me that my explanation was really good because, well, it fit what I did on the illustration board!"

Akihiro smiled. "That's really awesome to hear, Sayori. What explanation did you give?"

"Ah! Well, um. . ." For some reason, Sayori looked uneasy as the two of them exited the school together. "I d-don't remember exactly what I said," she said with a nervous laugh.

"Oh, come on!" Akihiro remarked. "I'm sure you remember at least some of it!"

"W-Well. . ." Like she always does when racked with pressure, Sayori began fiddling with her hands. "Um . . . I don't remember the exact w-words. . ."

Akihiro frowned thoughtfully at her. Sayori responded by simply smiling in a way like she had done something wrong; it was a look that he had seen before. As they walked past other students making their way home, Sayori still did not reply about anything. It only took a little more time, though, before Akihiro finally figured things out.

He looked at her with a sigh. "You used my interpretation, didn't you?"

Sayori's blush said it all, even if she began exclaiming, "Ah, n-no! What made you say that?"

Akihiro narrowed his eyes at her. "Sayori."

"W-What?" Sayori asked breathlessly.

"Sayori," he repeated.

"I didn't, I swear!" said Sayori in between more giggles.

"_Sayori_."

Sayori let out a long sigh as she turned even redder. "Well, I m-might have used a few of y-your ideas. . ." she replied. "Or m-most of them. . ."

"You mean 'all of them,'" Akihiro pointed out.

Sayori said nothing as she simply opted to fiddle with the ribbon on her uniform. She was still giggling, and Akihiro saw that she was sweating a little now. He sighed. "What am I gonna do with you, Sayori?"

"I'm really sorry!" Sayori cried out, grabbing Akihiro's arm as if to implore him to forgive a grievous offense. "It's just that I had to review last night for an upcoming History quiz, and I kinda forgot that I was supposed to prepare for my presentation. . ."

Akihiro sighed, patting Sayori's hand. "I get it. Besides, we also had that quiz, only it was yesterday instead of today. So what grade did you get for your self-portrait?"

Sayori coughed a little in her relief. Akihiro saw the redness on her face dissipate gradually. "I got an A. That's my first A in Art class, in fact! Isn't that awesome?"

Akihiro smiled. "Well, if you got an A out of it, that's good enough for me."

Sayori grasped his arm tighter in gratitude. "And _that _is why I texted you at lunch earlier and told you that we're going back downtown. Remember, I said last Wednesday that I'll pay you back for your help earlier this week, and this time, I want to keep that promise! Where do you want to eat?"

Akihiro sobered up. Again, though he always humored Sayori when it came to her promises, he never really felt sure about letting her keep them, especially if it involved repaying him on any favors he might have done for her. "Sayori, it's alright if you don't—"

"No, I insist!" Sayori exclaimed, and somehow Akihiro felt a slight pain on his arm as she gripped him tighter. "You always help me a lot, and I don't want you to think that I forget all that! B-Besides, you agreed to this last Wednesday!"

"T-That's . . ." Akihiro sighed again. "Okay fine, I may have said yes, but you know that I don't exactly force you to pay me back for the stuff I help you with, right?"

"I know that!" said Sayori. "But it's alright with me if I have to repay you, especially because I said I would! Now where do you w-want to go?"

Akihiro looked around and realized that, while arguing, they had unwittingly already entered the streets of downtown. He didn't know whether Sayori had steered him here intentionally and secretly by holding on to his arm, though he sensed that Sayori likely didn't even notice.

"Okay, okay, I'm going to let you get through with this," said Akihiro, and it was only at that moment that he felt Sayori's grip on his arm ease a little. "But on one condition."

"Yes?" asked Sayori, her face becoming expectant.

"_You _decide where we're going to eat."

* * *

Though they took around fifteen minutes to choose a suitable place, Sayori finally decided on a small diner named _Starlight_, which was deeper in downtown. According to her, she had heard quite a few of her classmates discussing the place's cozy ambience and good food, and that she had considered going there to eat, though not alone. Akihiro thought the place looked neat enough; whitewashed walls accentuated with pink formed much of its exterior, while neat little rows of potted flowers and plants served as additional decorations.

The interior looked just as well-ordered as the diner's outside look was. There were sets of white tables topped with red tablecloths, and matching chairs adorned with checkered poufs. The walls were decorated with cream-colored wallpaper as well as several paintings and posters, and the whole place was lit up by contemporary-looking wall lights. There were only a few people eating inside, and soon the two of them found a good place near one corner of the diner. Sayori was beside herself with awe as she glanced around at everything with her eyes wide open in wonder. Akihiro knew that she really liked the diner's predominant color mixture of white and red matching the paintings and lights.

As usual, the two of them left their things at their chosen table and went to the counter to order. As they were both unfamiliar with the _Starlight_'s menu, they took their time choosing. Akihiro had to smile at the way Sayori was looking at the menu like it was a particularly close game of chess; her seriousness with food was not immediately made known in her average build, but she could eat twice more than he could at times.

After they had finished ordering and paying at last—katsudon for Akihiro, ramen for Sayori, and a small platter of sushi for both—the two of them went back to their table and began discussing what had happened at school. Almost immediately, Sayori began bemoaning the History quiz she had earlier, and she became even more worried when she shared what some of her answers were compared to Akihiro's. Akihiro assured her that she seemed to have gotten a good deal of the answers right, and that she had no need to worry about getting at least a B.

"Why aren't you carrying your self-portrait, by the way?" asked Akihiro when their food had arrived. Earlier that day, when he walked with Sayori to school, she had been carrying the self-portrait in her arms; she had wrapped it entirely in what looked to be a garbage bag to avoid drawing too much attention to it, though with her choice of material Akihiro knew that she only accomplished the opposite of what she wanted.

"Oh, the teacher wanted us to submit them all first," replied Sayori. "She said we'll be getting them back by Monday."

"Really proud of you getting that A," said Akihiro, grinning as he dug into his katsudon bowl with a spork. "Told you that you'd do fine."

"Hey, if you didn't help me with your interpretation, I never would've gotten that A, okay?" said Sayori. She took a deep breath of the ramen in front of her and sighed happily. "This smells really, _really _good."

Akihiro shook his head in amusement as he watched Sayori eat. Like what he often teased her for, Sayori was prone to spacing out whenever she ate something particularly good—that is, unless she chooses to try talking with her mouth full. Without anything else to say right now, Akihiro decided to join her and chow down on the katsudon. The first bite came as a pleasant surprise, for the tender pork cutlet with its scallions and egg yolk practically melted in his mouth.

"Well, your friends weren't wrong," Akihiro mumbled as he chewed. "The food here is awesome. Look, it even made me talk with my mouth full, like you do."

Sayori frowned. "I don't always do that," she responded.

Akihiro chewed and swallowed. "You're doing it right now, dummy."

Sayori paused for a moment, and Akihiro couldn't help but laugh at the image of her staring at him with a long string of noodles dangling from her mouth. In response, Sayori poked his nose lightly with her spork.

"Ah!" Akihiro cried out, rubbing his nose. "That could've gone _up _my nose, you know?"

"Serves you right, meanie," said Sayori as she wiped the spork with a piece of napkin.

Eating took a bit longer than Akihiro had expected, primarily because Sayori would often punctuate her bites of food with praises about how good everything tasted. Used to all this, Akihiro decided to just nod alongside her as he ate, though he privately agreed with everything Sayori was saying about good quality ingredients and noodle texture and the right degrees of taste. After all, he didn't want to be rude by cutting Sayori off in the middle of her monologues, especially when he was also prone to droning on about _Lost Souls _or _Dungeon Delvers _at times.

Sayori finished around ten minutes after he did. She put down her now-empty bowl and let out a satisfied sigh. "We really should come back here next week," she remarked immediately.

"Well, can't argue with that," said Akihiro, tapping his spork lightly against his katsudon bowl. "That's the best resto meal I've had in a while."

Sayori looked around the place once again. "Hmm. . . This place seems like a good spot for a date, too," she said with a small smile.

"Eh? What do you mean?" asked Akihiro.

"The ambience," said Sayori. "The food, everything. It's just a little . . . romantic. I think the reason a few of my friends eat here is because this is where they have dates." She said the last part with a childlike giggle.

"Ah, well, you might be right," Akihiro replied with a shrug. "Pretty good place to eat out and cuddle up, it seems."

Sayori leaned a bit closer towards him. "Have you e-ever gone on a date, Akihiro?"

Akihiro stopped midway in lifting his glass of iced tea towards his mouth to drink. Struck by the suddenness of Sayori's question, he scratched his head as he suddenly felt nervous. "Of course not, dummy!" he replied. "W-What the heck made you say that?"

"Ah, nothing!" said Sayori, who for some reason looked nervous as well. "I just figured that you might be going out with . . . er, you know, _someone_. . ."

Akihiro stared at her. In all the years that they have been the best of friends, Sayori had never opened any topic that was connected to either of them seeing anyone. In all honesty, even if he had to bet up his leveled-up characters and progress in _Dungeon Delvers _and _Lost Souls_, Akihiro never mingled with any other girl extensively except Sayori. Naturally, he had a few friends here and there, both gamers and classmates, but no one came as close as Sayori did.

"Sayori, I'm an average guy who's also an occasional slacker and addicted gamer," he replied firmly. "It's tough for someone like me to ever socialize, let alone be really close to a girl. I'm practically stereotyped as a no-lifer once people get wind of my hobbies and interests."

"Eh? That's not true!" Sayori cried out, looking appalled. "I don't think you're _that _much of a slacker! And I'm s-sure that other girls would say as much!"

"I know, but the thing is, you know me better than anyone else does, so I guess that's a given," Akihiro went on. "Besides, I don't even go out that much, so I never meet anyone new."

Sayori stared at him for a long while. Her expression was mixed; in Akihiro's eyes, she seemed to have warring feelings of concern and embarrassment on her face. It was enough to make him even more anxious about the conversation.

"You should t-try going out more, Akihiro," Sayori finally murmured with a smile. "It's good to meet new friends, you know? It's a refreshing change of pace from any stuff you might find boring now."

Akihiro blinked. Was it his eyes, or did Sayori's smile seem to be a bit . . . sadder this time? And even the tone of her voice indicated that she was saying her words rather halfheartedly. Akihiro started to frown, trying to read beneath Sayori's expression and statements.

"Are you saying I might be starting to find _you _boring?" asked Akihiro.

Adding to his surprise, Sayori didn't react violently to his statement. She merely looked at him with the same sad smile she was wearing. "W-Well . . . Don't you find me boring already, Akihiro?" she said quietly.

Akihiro couldn't believe his ears. "Sayori, we've been best friends for . . . for, um . . . see, I can't even remember exactly how long we've been best friends, but it's been years and _years_! We've known each other even before we were in elementary school, and our parents even know each other! Even now, we're still really good friends, and suddenly you're asking me if I find you _boring_?"

Sayori let out a sigh and bowed her head. Her pensive smile never left her face. "It's just that . . . a t-thought that came into my head, Akihiro. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about it a few t-times before already. . . I know I'm your best friend, and I'm really thankful for that. Just . . . don't let me s-stop you from meeting new friends and having fun with others, alright? I might be, um, holding you back, or I might be just dead w-weight to you right now. . ."

"_Sayori!_"

A few people in the diner raised their heads at Akihiro's exclamation, but he couldn't help it. What he was hearing just kept startling him, just as his cry startled Sayori a little. That Sayori would suddenly open up such sentiments to him and say such things, it made Akihiro feel like he had done something horribly wrong for her to suddenly feel so sad and guilty. When he spoke again, Akihiro decided to tone down his voice, though he kept the firmness in it.

"You're _not _dead weight, alright? I never thought of you as dead weight o-or inconvenient or anything like that. I've always seen and treated you as my best friend, the one who knows me best, the one whom I've had fun and good times for years now! I may like joking around about your behavior and quirks, but you know I _never _mean any of them! I never joke around just to show you that you're being annoying or distracting or childish or anything! If any of my jokes ever made you feel bad, then I'm really sor—"

To his surprise, Sayori reached out and patted his hand. Her touch felt warm, though Akihiro could feel her fingers trembling against his. "You don't have to apologize, silly," Sayori said softly. "It's not your fault or anything. In fact, I think it's more of my fault for always taking up a lot of your time."

"_You're not_," Akihiro muttered sternly. "I'm glad you're taking up a lot of my time. If you didn't, I'd be wasting everything on my games and anything that will help me slack off! I have more fun spending time with you than I do leveling up my characters!"

Sayori bowed her head, as if she didn't want Akihiro to see her face completely. "I don't t-think I'm that fun to be with. . ." she murmured very softly. Her hand never left Akihiro's, but it was limp and almost lifeless except for the way it still trembled. Akihiro stared at her, his mind racing furiously. Wordlessly, Sayori began to withdraw her hand from his, but Akihiro had had enough. He reached after it and grasped it.

Sayori's eyes widened, and Akihiro was glad that his touch made her look up. He could see patches of red intensifying on her cheeks. To reassure her, Akihiro grinned at her. "You say you're not fun to be with?" he said. "Well, let's find out if that's true, shall we?"

Determinedly, he stood up and practically pulled Sayori along with him. With his free hand, he picked up both of their school bags and marched her out of the _Starlight_, quickening his pace with every step. Though he was careful not to drag her behind him, Akihiro made it a point to convince her to follow as quickly as he moved. He looked back and saw Sayori practically holding onto her hair bow as they moved. She cried out, "What on earth are you doing, Akihiro?"

Akihiro smiled at her again. "We're going to go have fun."

* * *

The arcade was the first place Akihiro decided to take her to. It was a bit noisy and crowded, and Sayori expected Akihiro to just go to one of the arcade machines there to play and keep playing while she watched. But instead of doing that, Akihiro once again turned to her and asked her what _she _wanted to do. When she couldn't answer, Akihiro took her for a tour around the arcade, showing her all the colorful machines and games that many people of varying ages were eagerly and happily playing on. Though she had never ever tried playing any type of video game or arcade game in her life, Sayori could not help but be stirred by the excitement and joy inside the arcade's lively environment. However, her shyness began to combat her own thrill, so she wondered in the end whether Akihiro would settle for several trips to the claw machines as her idea of "fun."

To her mounting wonder and elation, not only did Akihiro take her to bag a prize at the claw machines, but he did so by helping her with all of them instead of simply standing by and watching. It took a bit of time, and Sayori found herself giggling every time Akihiro buried his face in his palm in mock frustration when he failed to bag a prize. By the time they exited the arcade, though, Sayori already had five extra stuffed toys to add to her collection at her apartment, all hard-won thanks to Akihiro. Two of them went in Akihiro's backpack, while two went in Sayori's bag; Sayori carried the last one in her free arm as they walked out, with Akihiro once again holding her by her hand. Sayori could not help but smile as she looked at him. Meanwhile, Akihiro simply took the lead as they entered their next venue: the night market.

Sayori had only ever gone down to the night market once, and that had been with her classmates. She had never tried going there alone, mainly because of the distance between her apartment unit and downtown, so going there with Akihiro seemed like a whole new experience for her. Even Akihiro himself admitted that he had never gone down to the night market that often. Sayori took the time to observe everything that seemed to make the night market beautiful as the sunset faded: lanterns of different colors illuminating the area, stalls with multicolored tarps and decorative signs bearing shop names, neat little rows of wares and toys on display for prospective buyers, and the sights and smells of hot food and refreshments enticing people to stop by and indulge. Before Sayori could even say or do anything, Akihiro asked her if she was already hungry again.

At first, Sayori shot a sullen look at him, thinking that he was once again making fun of her, but Akihiro had told her resolutely, "Sayori, I'm not here to make fun of you, I'm here to make fun _with _you. I know you wanna eat again, so we're gonna do just that if you want!"

In fact, Akihiro didn't budge until Sayori finally—and honestly—admitted that she was hungry again. In response, Akihiro toured her around every food stall in the night market and let her pick what and where she wanted to eat, something that took them a good ten minutes. Sayori was once again startled when Akihiro began taking money out of his own pocket to pay for everything. In the end, she managed to force him to split the bill between the two of them by telling Akihiro that she wouldn't feel too happy if he shouldered everything on his own again—that, and also with the indirect help of what Akihiro called her puppy-dog eyes.

They spent a good thirty minutes eating takoyaki, yakitori and korokke, with Sayori enjoying every little bite as she watched Akihiro eat as well—though he did so a bit sparingly. Though she was trying her best not to make Akihiro feel left out or forced to be with her, Akihiro insisted that he was fine with just watching her enjoy herself. Soon, Sayori began to feel even more lighthearted than she had been at the end of their meal at the _Starlight_. In spite of what she had said earlier there, she felt at peace with everything.

Her only regret was that the day had to end.

"Well, here we are." Akihiro's voice made her blink, and Sayori realized that they were already at her apartment unit's front door. Quickly, she retrieved her apartment key from her skirt's pocket and opened the door.

"Holy crap," said Akihiro as he looked around. "You . . . actually cleaned up everything."

True to what she had started last Wednesday, Sayori had taken the time to start cleaning up her room and keeping it that way. Her bed covers were now neatly made, and her pillows occupied only the bed and not the floor. Her other school things—books, notebooks, papers and other such things—were arranged in their respective areas on the bookshelf next to Sayori's desk and laptop. Her stuffed animals, instead of being scattered across the room, now sat neatly on the windowsill next to the desk. Even her small kitchen, which was usually littered with food wrappers and empty plastic cups, felt the effects of her cleaning, and both the countertops and the sink were wiped clean.

"Well?" asked Sayori excitedly. "Didn't I tell you I would do it?"

"I'm speechless," Akihiro mumbled. "Not to mention really self-conscious about my own apartment unit right about now."

Sayori blushed. "Well, it took a lot of time and effort, but it was well worth it!"

They both set down their bags, and Sayori began adjusting the old stuffed animals she had on the windowsill to make room for the five new ones she had won at the arcade: a penguin in a top hat, a wide-eyed brown bear, a sea lion in a tutu, a grumpy-looking bulldog, and a chubby giraffe. Sayori beamed at the sight of them on the windowsill; there were now eleven of them all in all.

"Now they're gonna keep watch and make sure you don't mess your room up again," said Akihiro. He took on a high-pitched squeaky voice and began crying out jokingly, "Yes, Miss Sayori, please don't mess us up again! Akihiro told us that we won't last long on the window! Please don't punish us anymore! We like it here!"

Sayori poked his side with her finger, but she laughed nonetheless. She turned to the stuffed animals and spoke in a very motherly manner. "Don't worry, my fluffy friends. I won't forsake you! The window is your new home!"

Akihiro laughed as he picked up Sayori's favorite stuffed toy—a fat panda holding a microphone—and began waving its arms around like a puppet master would. He resumed speaking in that same squeaky voice, this time with a sad tone. "B-But Miss Sayori, Akihiro told us that we'd be back on the floor by tomorrow, cold and neglected! He told us that you'll soon start messing up your room again like before! Is that true?"

Sayori giggled even louder, and while she tried her best to keep this skit going, she was having difficulty holding back her laughs. She snatched the panda from Akihiro and patted its head softly. "Don't listen to anything this big bad meanie says! I will protect you, and I'll make sure that you and your friends won't have to go back sleeping on the floor!"

For a long while, the two of them laughed and poked fun at one another, and Sayori could feel her doubts earlier begin to evaporate. She looked at Akihiro warmly, and time seemed to slow down a little as she did. Here he was, her best friend, a friend who always teased her for her blunders and mishaps, but also a friend who was ready to help her with virtually anything and everything. Her fun evening with him was but another testament to that, and Sayori was incredibly touched at the initiative he had taken just to show her that he indeed appreciated her company.

Like their downtown adventure, though, their apartment fun had to end as Akihiro readied himself to go home. "You'll still be online tonight, right?" he asked. "Besides, it's alright if you oversleep this time. It's the weekend!"

Sayori frowned petulantly at his remark about oversleeping. "Yes, I'll be online. How about you?"

Akihiro shrugged as he slung his backpack on his shoulder. "I might be playing _Dungeon Delvers _again, but I dunno. I'll be online one way or another, though. Count on that."

Sayori clasped her hands together and bowed her head. She let out a sad sigh. "Thanks, Akihiro. Thank you so much."

Akihiro patted her on the arm. "You're welcome," he replied. "I really hope you had fun. I know I did. If you wanna do this again, well . . . all you have to do is ask," he added with a wink. "Chat you later!"

And with that, he was gone again. Sayori looked up at the door, her lip curling as she held back the urge to cry then and there. She wanted to say a lot of things, but she couldn't bring herself to speak of them, not after what she had said at the _Starlight_. Fear and anxiety had gripped her then as she felt that she might have been saying more than she should, and it was nothing short of a miracle that Akihiro responded to everything the way he did. The gratitude and happiness she had from her day with him never left her. It was a memory that she would treasure forever, and undoubtedly dream about.

Now, though, it was back to normal for the two of them. _Why does everything have to end with you closing my door, Akihiro?_

She turned her head towards her stuffed toys, which were all watching her innocently from their spot on the windowsill. With a determined sigh, Sayori walked over to the window, picked up the brown bear she had won from the arcade, and ran out after Akihiro.

"Akihiro!" she yelled as she bolted down the stairs and out of the apartment's front door. "Akihiro, wait!"

Akihiro was only a few meters down the street when she whizzed past the front gate of her apartment. "_Akihiro!_ _Wait!_"

Thankfully, Akihiro stopped and looked behind him. Even from a distance, Sayori saw his eyes widen in surprise. "Sayori?" he called out.

Sayori quickened her pace, and she was grateful for Akihiro running back to meet her. She skidded to a halt before she ran full speed into him. Before Akihiro could say anything, she held out the stuffed bear with both of her hands.

"Please take it," she said breathlessly.

". . . W-What?" Akihiro seemed at a loss for words.

"Take it."

"Sayori—" Akihiro began, but Sayori looked at him imploringly.

"You won this as m-much as I did," she said in between her gasps for air. "Take it. Please. It's a gift from me to you."

"B-But—"

"No 'buts,' Akihiro, p-please!" Sayori exclaimed. "If I could give you everything else, I would!"

Akihiro's expression softened even further, and Sayori once again saw that he was blushing—a very rare sight indeed. In spite of everything, Sayori was determined to give the bear to him. He stammered, "B-But . . . you know that I won that for _you_."

Sayori felt her heart flutter a little. "I k-know that," she said, smiling. "But I really want you to have it, okay? B-Besides . . . he matches your hair."


	12. Chapter 12 - A Wishful Weekend

**CHAPTER TWELVE – A WISHFUL WEEKEND (SayoHiro)**

Akihiro slammed his hand down on his alarm clock, cursing and grunting at the same time into his pillow. Why he had even set up an alarm for a Saturday was beyond him. He turned on his bed and opened one eye blearily; the sunlight was only beginning to shine into his room, and it was still very cold. On his desk, the brown teddy bear that Sayori had given him the night before sat next to his computer monitor, watching over the room with its wide-eyed stare. In spite of his sleepiness, Akihiro smiled faintly as he vaguely remembered Sayori.

Knowing that his alarm already ruined his chances of falling asleep again, Akihiro sluggishly sat up, stretching his arms and scratching his head. With his eyes half-closed, he dragged himself towards the bathroom for his morning routine, dousing his face with cold water to wake himself further. With a sigh, he prepped his toothbrush and checked to see if the shower had hot water yet. When everything was in order, he closed the bathroom door and went about his business.

The teddy bear seemed to stare at him as he stepped out of the bathroom about fifteen minutes later to get dressed. Akihiro became conscious about it to the point where he almost put on his school uniform instead of his casual clothes. Shaking his head at his moment of confusion, Akihiro marched over to the fridge to scout for breakfast; an egg tray with only two eggs remaining and a near-empty carton of milk told him that he needed to take a small trip to the nearby grocery, where he always bought the food items he needed in his apartment.

Apart from two joggers and an old man walking his dog, there was no one else on the streets as Akihiro exited his apartment building. His battered alarm clock had told him it was just nearing seven o'clock, a couple of hours earlier than he would have liked for a Saturday. The morning chill prevailed in the air, though Akihiro soon found it rather invigorating as it chased away the lingering drowsiness in his mind. He quickened his pace as he made his way towards the grocery, which was in the opposite direction from where Sayori's apartment was.

The grocery was as quiet as the street when he arrived. The grocer, a portly woman in her late fifties who knew him, greeted him as he entered. Akihiro greeted her back as he made his way to where he needed to go. Passing by small aisles with shelves bearing various ingredients and goods, he soon managed to get what he needed—a new tray of eggs, a fresh carton of milk, and a loaf of bread for good measure. Though he debated for a moment on whether he should buy something extra for dinner later that day, Akihiro decided to just buy what he needed for now.

As Akihiro made his way to the grocery's counter to pay, his phone buzzed from inside his jacket's pocket. He took it out as he placed his chosen goods on the counter, wondering who would text him this early.

To his great surprise, it was Sayori. "_good morning _:)"

Akihiro paused, thinking of what to reply for a few moments. "_i like how we both made good on our promise to wake up early… on a saturday_"

"_hahaha! i dunno, just woke up early all of a sudden. really hungry_ :("

"_at the grocery rn, will be cooking bfast l8r_"

"_jealous_ :("

"_don't have bfast?_"

"_i do, haven't cooked yet haha, maybe l8r_"

Akihiro paused for a moment, thinking. He checked his phone's clock again, though he knew even before he looked that he had enough time. The grocer spoke up. "Something else you need to buy, dear?"

Akihiro looked behind him and saw that there was no one else in line for the moment. "Yes, ma'am, I'll be right back. One moment."

* * *

Sayori had just finished getting dressed after her morning bath when a knock came from her apartment unit's door. "Just a minute!" she called out as she quickly patted her hair dry with her towel. She almost dropped her towel, though, when she saw Akihiro standing there, carrying two small bags of groceries. Akihiro smiled diffidently, as if he was apologizing for arriving on such short notice.

"W-What are you doing here, Akihiro?" Sayori stammered.

Akihiro shrugged. "Well, you said you haven't cooked breakfast yet, so I thought that it might be a good time to have breakfast with you!"

At a loss for words, Sayori held her towel up to her face and turned away quickly, hoping that Akihiro didn't see her slowly turn red. "Akihiro, I-I. . ."

"Well, d-don't you want to?"

Sayori looked back at him hastily. "N-No, not like that! Come in, come in!" she managed, giggling a little. "It's j-just that . . . why didn't you text me about it?"

Akihiro shook his head at her as he closed the door behind him. "Because I didn't wanna talk to you," he said jokingly. "But seriously, I wanted to surprise you, dummy. Besides, it's bad to skip breakfast, right? You always remind me of that."

"U-Um . . . er . . . Ah . . ."

Now Sayori was really speechless. A big part of her wanted to run off before she could blush to death in front of Akihiro. Thinking quickly, she hurried to her fridge and poked her head inside it under the pretense that she was looking for things to cook. "T-The only stuff I have here are eggs and some breakfast cereal," she called out.

"Well, good thing I bought something extra," replied Akihiro from somewhere behind her. Sayori heard him set down the groceries he had bought on the small dining table she had near the fridge. "Bought some bacon and tuna as well, didn't know what you'd like so I got both."

"B-Bacon sounds good!" said Sayori, thankful for the refrigerator's coldness in providing relief for her blushing face.

"Alright, I'm gonna get the frying pan going," said Akihiro.

Though she really wanted to be the one doing the cooking, Sayori could not bring herself to argue, not when Akihiro looked so determined to do the cooking for the two of them. Once she had completely dried her hair and settled herself down in one of the two chairs at her dining table, Akihiro set about preparing everything for breakfast. Sayori watched as he began chopping up scallions, preparing bacon and whipping up scrambled eggs. A frying pan was heated, and soon the entire kitchen was filled with the enticing aroma of eggs and bacon. Akihiro looked focused as he cooked, though he also kept glancing occasionally at Sayori as if conscious of her observant gaze.

When everything was done, Sayori looked on in even more wonder as Akihiro set the table for both of them. He put the bacon and eggs on one plate, and a freshly toasted batch of bread onto another. Two glasses, one filled with milk and the other filled with orange juice, were set down as well.

When all this was set up properly, Akihiro looked at his handiwork. "Well, I have to admit. Even I'm impressed at everything I just did," he said drolly after a few moments of silence.

"Do you often cook like this, Akihiro?" asked Sayori in wonder.

Akihiro shrugged. "When I feel like taking my food extra seriously, sure," he replied with a short laugh. "But most of the time, I'm the only one who's eating, so why go the extra mile, right?"

"It all looks good," said Sayori with a smile.

"Ah, that's all just some cooking techniques I found on the internet," said Akihiro, waving his hand dismissively. "Ways on how to cook crispy bacon properly, how to add more appeal to scrambled eggs, that kind of stuff. Anyway, looks like the only things left to take care of are the utensils. Where—"

"Ah, wait, I'll go get some!"

Sayori quickly stood up, eager to do her part; Akihiro had been kind enough to surprise her with breakfast, so she knew that the least she could do was to help in her own little way. Quickly, she went to one of the drawers on her kitchen's countertops and pulled out a couple of forks. As she did so, however, one fork hit the edge of the drawer and fell to the floor with a clatter just in front of one of the countertops.

"Fiddlesticks," Sayori muttered as she bent downward to pick the fork up. However, as she was starting to stand upright again, she bumped her forehead painfully on the edge of the countertop.

"Sayori!" Akihiro rushed quickly to her side. The force of the bump disoriented her as she felt her forehead throb from the pain. Unable to balance herself properly, she plopped down on the floor in a sitting position.

"Owowowowow. . ." Sayori hissed under her breath. She could feel her eyes watering as the pain seemed to double. Her voice wavered as she tried to speak. "Ah, j-jeez. . ."

"Don't get up, alright?" said Akihiro nervously as he took the forks from her hand. "Just sit right there for a second." In one quick motion, he stood up, put the forks on the table next to their food, and knelt back down next to her. "Now, let's have a look at that. . ."

He gently took hold of her hand and eased it slowly away from where her head was hit. Sayori still didn't open her eyes from the pain, so she could only listen to Akihiro's reactions as she breathed shallowly. She heard him inhale sharply.

"Is it that bad?" she asked quietly.

Akihiro softened his voice a little. "Nothing that can't be treated. But we need some cold compress for that, and we need it now."

"T-There's some—ah!—ice in the f-freezer. . ."

"Alright, what about an ice pack? Do you have any?"

"In the b-bathroom, I think. . ."

Sayori heard Akihiro stand up and walk over towards the fridge, rummaging around before going on to the bathroom. All this time, she kept her eyes closed as she tried pressing her fingers gingerly against her head to numb the pain; her fingertips soon felt the makings of a small lump, which stung whenever she tried to apply pressure to it.

In about a minute, Akihiro returned and knelt down next to her. "Okay, I'm gonna press this against your head, alright? Just sit still," he said softly.

Slowly and carefully, as if fearful of feeling any more pain, Sayori waited until she felt the chill of the ice pack pierce through her forehead. She gasped and winced slightly, but Akihiro seemed to make sure that the ice pack wasn't pressed too hard against her head until she felt more relieved than pained. To keep her from falling over backwards, Akihiro placed his free hand on her back once more as he slowly and carefully dragged the pack across the lump. For a full minute, he repeated everything until Sayori finally began to feel the pain recede.

"It's s-starting to feel fine," she exhaled.

"I hope so," said Akihiro. He inched the ice pack away from her head to take a look. "If we keep this up, that lump will be gone in no time."

"I really am just a klutz s-sometimes. . ." Sayori murmured.

"You're not, alright?" Akihiro remarked comfortingly. "Accidents happen. Anyway, c'mon, it's better if you sit over here."

Careful to keep her balanced without forcing her to stand completely upright quickly, Akihiro held Sayori by the crook of her left arm as he guided her carefully towards her chair at the dining table. When she managed to finally sit down, he eased her hand towards the ice pack so that she could hold on to it. Without another word, he went over to his chair, picked it up and carried it next to hers. Sayori watched as he moved their breakfast closer to them. He took a fork and began scooping up some scrambled eggs from the plate.

Instead of eating, however, Akihiro carefully guided the fork to Sayori's mouth.

"W-What are you doing?" she stammered, flabbergasted.

"You won't be able to eat properly while you're holding that ice pack on your head, alright?" said Akihiro seriously. "That's why I'm going to help you."

"Akihiro . . . you still have to eat, though. . ."

"Sayori, it's alright with me," Akihiro replied reassuringly. "I'm not that hungry yet."

"B-But Akihiro . . ."

Akihiro sighed. He slowly put the fork back onto the plate and turned to her. A short silence fell, and for a moment Sayori wondered whether he had grown annoyed at her. When Akihiro spoke again, his voice sounded serious, but not angry.

"Sayori . . . do you have any idea how shook up I was when I saw you hit your head?"

When Sayori slowly shook her head, he went on. "Do you remember all the times when we used to run around and play outside? Like when we used to play tag by the creek on the other side of town?"

A small smile formed on Sayori's face as she remembered. Indeed, when they were younger, the two of them would go out to play wherever they could; their favorite place was by the creek near downtown. "W-With the trees and bushes next to the water, right?" she said softly.

"Yeah," said Akihiro, grinning. "Whenever I was it, you'd run into the creek and stay there, and I wouldn't be able to get to you because I didn't like wading in the water. You'd just stand there and laugh while I waited for you to come back ashore."

Sayori giggled as she pictured the scene in her mind's eye: her seven-year old self, making faces and laughing as seven-year old Akihiro was practically stamping his feet in frustration on the creek bed. "Yeah, and there were times when you'd threaten to go home without me if I didn't come out of the creek, but I'd always tell you that you'd be in bigger trouble if you left me alone."

Akihiro laughed alongside her. "And how about that time when you would try climbing up the trees at the creek along with me? I'd always do it so easily while you were still trying to scramble up the trunk."

Sayori playfully pinched his arm. "I think I've gotten better at climbing trees now, thank you," she replied. "I just had shorter legs back then."

Akihiro nodded as he chuckled. Slowly, however, his face and tone sobered up a little. "And then there were a few times when you f-fell from climbing up a tree. Remember that?"

Sayori looked at him and saw a sudden melancholy in his pale green eyes. She did remember what Akihiro was saying; him crying out from up the tree as she fell, her landing on the ground in a heap from her grip slipping. "Yeah, that always h-hurt. . ."

"You know what I always did when that happened, right?"

Sayori nodded. In her mind, she saw herself crying over and over, her knees and arms scratched and bruised; Akihiro would always jump down from the tree to comfort her. "You always thought that it was your fault whenever I fell. . ." she muttered softly. "But it was mostly my fault. I would always try to keep up with you, and I would only end up stumbling or falling or getting myself hurt. . ."

Akihiro did not move or speak. The sadness never left his eyes. Sayori, unmindful of this, went on. "I dunno if you've ever thought about this, Akihiro, but . . . you always look out for others, even if you don't have to. Even if you like to joke around, you'd always blame yourself for something you didn't even do, simply because you're looking out for people, for me. . . Even now, years later, you're still doing that whenever I get myself into a pickle for being clumsy. . ."

Akihiro let out a sigh. This time, he seemed to struggle a little with his reply as he explained, "It's just . . . It's like what I've said many times before, Sayori. I look out for you. Always. Whenever you fell from the trees we used to climb on, whenever I got down and saw you crying because you were hurt . . . I always felt afraid. And just a while ago, when you hit your head over there, that . . . that feeling of fear and worry just came flooding back. . . And I know you don't normally see me as scared or worried, but . . . this was one of those times. That's why I reacted that way. I just . . . don't want you getting hurt."

Sayori blinked back a few tears, thankful that the ice pack shielded her eyes from Akihiro's glance. "You really are a sweetheart, you know that?"

Akihiro's eyes widened. "D-Don't call me t-that," he stammered as his ears turned red. "Anyway, that's that. You need to eat."

Determinedly, he once again took up the fork he was using and speared some scrambled egg onto it. Sayori still wanted to refuse, only because she didn't want to trouble Akihiro any further as usual, but she couldn't bring herself to do so as she looked at the concern on his face. "I'll eat, but . . ."

"But?" asked Akihiro expectantly.

"Only if you eat along with me as well."

Akihiro sighed resignedly. "Alright, fine, if it makes you happy."

Sayori began feeling a lot better as she chewed and watched Akihiro eat. Her right hand still held the ice pack fast on her forehead, while her left hand allowed her to nibble at a piece of toast as Akihiro ate every other forkful of scrambled eggs and bacon. After around ten minutes of this, she began to giggle a little.

Akihiro quickly noticed this. "What is it? What're you laughing at?"

Sayori bowed her head shyly as she continued giggling. "Is this what boyfriends and girlfriends do?" She laughed a little bit more as she watched Akihiro's eyes widen slightly. Once more, he looked anxious.

"W-What are you s-saying, dummy?" he managed as he fidgeted with the fork and the last few pieces of bacon and scrambled egg.

"Well, don't boyfriends do these kinds of things with their girlfriends?" said Sayori. "Eating together, taking care of each other, giving each other gifts . . . Huh, it doesn't seem that much different from what best friends do, eh, Akihiro?"

"You're making it sound w-weird now," Akihiro mumbled nervously.

Sayori smiled sadly. "Your future g-girlfriend would be lucky to have you, Akihiro . . ."

Akihiro sighed exasperatedly, lowering the forkful of bacon and eggs that was halfway towards his mouth. "Sayori, please, I can't eat with you saying all these things, show me some mercy!" he cried out imploringly.

"W-Well, it's true!" said Sayori, sitting straighter with a determined air. "Any girl would be lucky to have you as her b-boyfriend, Akihiro. You're a really nice and sweet person, and don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise!"

Even as she said those words, however, Sayori could not help but feel her heart grow a little heavy. Here she was again, discussing the idea of Akihiro seeing someone else, something that sat at the back of her words at the _Starlight _yesterday. She looked at Akihiro, her eyes growing wistful as she stared at him. In her right hand and on her forehead, the ice pack seemed to grow just a little bit colder.

"And what about you?" Akihiro asked quietly. "You'd m-make a good girlfriend for any guy, Sayori."

Sayori laughed, though deep inside, she felt her heart flutter a little at the compliment. "No one would ever go after me," she replied. "I'm really clumsy and silly, and sometimes I even forget doing simple but important things, like taking care of myself, right? B-Besides, it's not like I'm gonna look for a boyfriend ever. . ."

Akihiro looked at her. "Why n-not?"

Sayori shrugged. "If I ever have a boyfriend, he wouldn't let you do these kinds of things with me, Akihiro . . ."

Akihiro's eyes widened further. "S-Sayori. . ." he began, but she cut him off.

"I'm already happy with you being here with me, Akihiro. If I'm going to be honest, I want to keep having fun with my best friend, and having a boyfriend would put an end to that! Besides, you take care of me better than anyone else could, anyway. . . After all, who'd ever have the patience to deal with my clumsiness, or my lapses in school, or the little accidents I have every now and then, r-right?"

At the last part of her statement, Sayori's voice wavered a little, and her hands began trembling a bit. She looked down, afraid of Akihiro's reaction to her words. In silence, she began reflecting on everything she was saying right now. Even though she knew how awkward or emotional they sounded, Sayori could not bring herself to lie about how she felt. In her heart and mind, she knew that her best friend would outclass any other potential boyfriend that might come her way; that no one else would ever come close to who Akihiro was in her life. Nevertheless, Sayori wondered if she had said too much—or not enough.

Suddenly, gently, she felt Akihiro's hand grasp her left hand. Sayori gasped, but she didn't immediately draw her hand away as she looked up at him. Akihiro's face was entirely red, but the gleam in his eyes told Sayori that he was determined to reply.

"And what happens if I get a girlfriend? That means she won't also let me do all the things I do with you, dummy. And I . . . I don't think I'd want that."

Progressively, with each word that he was uttering, Akihiro tightened his grip on Sayori's hand. It was not painful, though; in fact, in Sayori's mind, it felt as if Akihiro simply didn't want to let go. The only other time Akihiro had ever done this was last night, when he guided Sayori through downtown and into what she still considered a euphoric evening. Her heart hammering wildly in her chest, she looked at Akihiro. In the literal sense, at least, she was looking at him. But in her eyes, in her mind, Sayori somehow felt that she was staring at a whole new version of him. There was a mixture of anxiousness, determination and warmth warring on Akihiro's facial features, something that Sayori could all but read beneath that face she knew so well, yet something she had never seen him display until now. Her vision suddenly grew hazy, and time itself seemed to slow down.

". . . I don't think I'd want that, too," she whispered after a long stretch of silence.

For a moment, Sayori wondered if she actually did see something change in Akihiro's face. It was as if a light had been turned on from behind his green eyes, something that momentarily dissipated the anxiety on his features. To reassure him in the only way she knew how at that moment, Sayori gave him her sweetest, sincerest and happiest smile. She no longer cared whether she was blushing or not; what mattered was showing Akihiro just how serious she was about her words. Slowly, Akihiro smiled back at her, and in an instant, the anxiety and melancholy on his features vanished.

Vaguely, Sayori realized that her forehead was no longer hurting. Slowly, gingerly, she let go of the ice pack on her forehead, prompting Akihiro to glance up.

"That lump's looking a lot better," he muttered.

Sayori laughed a little. "I wouldn't mind if it stayed up there anyway," she said. "It'd be like a unicorn horn then, r-right?"

"Jeez, Sayori . . ." Akihiro began. Sayori's laugh grew a bit louder.

"Only joking!" she assured him. "Anyway, if you didn't act fast earlier, that lump would've turned out a lot worse. . ."

"Yeah, well, anything to stop you from looking like a unicorn," Akihiro mumbled, chuckling. "You already look bad enough. . ."

"Meanie!" Sayori exclaimed, pinching his side.

The last few minutes of their breakfast were total bliss for Sayori. The two of them finished eating and began cleaning everything up. This time, Sayori insisted on washing the dishes, and there was nothing Akihiro could say to dissuade her from doing so. Though she still felt slightly lightheaded from the bump she took on her head, she managed to clean up without losing her balance. As she was washing the dishes, Akihiro sat at the edge of her bed, looking at her stuffed toys.

"I guess you'll be going home now, huh?" she called out when she was done.

"Well, I guess so," replied Akihiro, standing up. "I dunno what else to do, though. . ."

Sayori smiled ruefully as she wiped her hands dry on a hand towel. "You could continue with _Dungeon Delvers_, if you want."

Akihiro shrugged as he made his way towards the door. "Well, I'll just have to wait and see what happens," he said. "Besides, I don't think we've been given any homework for the weekend, which is a real swell vacation considering how hectic last week was. . . How about you? What're you gonna do all day?"

Sayori glanced outside the window. "Well, to be honest, I d-don't know, too. . ."

Akihiro smiled. "Well, just message me if you get bored, alright? I'll be online all day," he remarked.

"I will," Sayori replied.

As Akihiro turned to leave, however, something triggered itself inside Sayori. It felt similar to what she had experienced earlier; everything grinding almost to a halt, her vision growing fuzzy, and her heart slamming wildly against her chest. A voice in her head seemed to manifest out of the blue, its words echoing in her mind.

_. . . Not everything has to end with him closing the door_. . .

"Akihiro!" Sayori called out.

Akihiro looked behind him, stopping just short of closing the door. "What is it?"

Sayori fidgeted nervously with her hands. Face flushed, but determined nonetheless, she sighed deeply before speaking. "Can I s-spend the day at your place?"

Akihiro froze. For a long moment, no one spoke between the two of them. Sayori kept her gaze locked onto Akihiro. When they had been younger, the two of them would spend whole days at each other's houses during the weekends. All that changed, however, after their parents had left to work in other prefectures. Since then, the two of them had been living in separate apartments, and there were no more instances of one of them spending an entire day at the other's place.

_At least, until now. _Even Sayori had to admit privately that she was startled by her sudden courage. It wasn't something she had planned beforehand, nor was it something she had rehearsed last night. It was brought on by the spur of the moment, its fuse lit by the feeling of having to watch Akihiro leave her every time he came over to her place. Part of her, the shy and awkward part that she had lived with for many years now, screamed that what she was doing was too much, and that she was risking everything just by asking for such a ludicrous request. However, there was also a newer side speaking to her, the one that had spoken to her just as Akihiro was leaving, the one that somehow empowered her resolve right now.

"It's a-alright if you don't want me t-to," Sayori went on. "I just—"

"Sayori," Akihiro interrupted. "Are you . . . sure?"

Sayori laughed. "Well, I know that I tend to be unsure about a lot of things, but this time . . . I am."

Though Akihiro himself seemed to look unsure as he held on to the door, Sayori began to feel more confident about what she was asking for. Indeed, the newer, braver self that had surfaced inside her seemed to spur her on by flooding her with even more daring and purpose with every passing second. Somehow, she knew that things would be all right, especially if it meant being with Akihiro.

Sayori decided to test the waters one more time. "If y-you don't want me to, it's—"

"I want you to."

The words made Sayori's heart leap. No one spoke for a long moment; even Akihiro looked as if he couldn't believe what he had just said. Excitement and euphoria similar to what she had felt yesterday began coursing through her. She beamed and blushed at the same time, while Akihiro gave her a small, mortified grin as he scratched his head timidly. To others, Akihiro's reply may seem like an ordinary, firm answer. To her, it meant everything right about now.


	13. Chapter 13 - Lunch For Two

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN – LUNCH FOR TWO (SayoHiro)**

As he and Sayori made their way to his apartment, Akihiro felt like everything was a surreal dream. They had stayed at each other's place and even slept over a few times in the past, though that was the time when they were kids, when their parents were still in Kanto. Back then, they had separate rooms to sleep in, so it was all good. Now, as junior high school students, they had never asked one another to stay at their place for an entire day. Usually, visits before or after school were enough, and they never really lasted for more than a couple of hours.

Sayori, however, seemed to have packed more than just a few things. As Akihiro watched her earlier, she appeared to have put in quite a few pairs of clothes and her personal belongings inside one of her spare bags. Akihiro, however, didn't say anything; he guessed that perhaps she was just preparing for the idea of staying at Akihiro's place overnight.

Overnight. The mere thought of it made Akihiro's heart beat faster. His apartment was not unlike Sayori's; the bedroom, kitchen and dining area were all practically linked together in a single space, with the bathroom being the only part of the unit that had its own area and door. The unit was as spacious as can be for a single occupant and comfortable for two people, though Akihiro was trying to figure out how and where Sayori could stay while she was in there, and where she would sleep if things did lead to an overnight stay. Every thought led back to his bed, which had enough space for two people. Akihiro decided to forego thinking about it for now before he collapsed from nervousness. Thankfully, Sayori's question managed to ease his mind a little.

"Are we gonna eat out for lunch?" she asked.

Akihiro looked at her. "We just had breakfast and you're already thinking about lunch?"

Sayori frowned. "I'm just planning ahead, okay. . ."

"Well, to be honest, I haven't given that much thought," said Akihiro. "I mean, where I'm gonna eat and all. I was thinking about just buying food from outside and eating it back at my place like I always do, but since you're staying there, that might change. . ."

"You can cook, though," Sayori pointed out.

Akihiro shrugged. "If we're talking about frying stuff, then sure, I'm a good chef. But I dunno any fancy recipes that I can try. Might have to look up a few on the internet first."

"Maybe I can help?" Sayori asked hopefully.

"Help eat up everything before we even get it on a plate?" Akihiro shot back jokingly. "I dunno about that. . ."

Sayori hit him with her bag. "I meant helping you cook, meanie."

Akihiro laughed. "Well, before we even begin looking for recipes and going out to buy ingredients, I need to take a bit of a break first. Still feel a bit sleepy. Besides, _you_ also need a break after what happened earlier," he pointed out.

"H-Hey, I'm feeling a lot better, okay?" Sayori remarked. Before they had left, she had tried her best to cover up the mark of the lump on her forehead by arranging her bangs slightly; in plain sight, it looked as if she had never hit her head.

In almost no time at all, they had arrived. Akihiro was slightly thankful that his room looked less messy than it usually should have been, though he had left his bed in disarray instead of immediately tidying it up. Again, his apartment unit wasn't that different from Sayori's, with the main difference being that it was slightly more simplistic with a lack of color and decorations. Sayori's apartment had a few potted plants, a couple of picture frames and, of course, her colorful roster of stuffed animals; Akihiro's only had a few books on a shelf, a calendar and the single stuffed bear that Sayori had given as a gift. The apartment's minimalistic aura, however, didn't seem to bother Sayori at all, even with her love for color and decorations. At times, Sayori remarked that the simple nature of Akihiro's room merely reflected his laid-back personality.

Almost immediately after getting back inside his apartment unit, Akihiro jumped into his bed and let out a long, relaxed sigh. "Hello, bed. I missed you."

"I'm sure it missed you, too," Sayori remarked earnestly. Upon catching sight of the teddy bear sitting next to Akihiro's computer monitor, she quickly walked up to it and picked it up. "Hello, Mr. Bear!" she said happily as she cradled the bear in her arms like it was a baby. "Is Akihiro taking good care of you? He'd better, or he'll never hear the end of it!"

"He's only been here for a night, Sayori," Akihiro remarked with a small laugh.

Sayori looked at him. "Take good care of him, okay? Treat him like how you treat me."

"You mean I should feed him once every three hours and help him with his homework every other night?"

"Ah! D-Don't listen to him, Mr. Bear!" Sayori cried out, pouting at Akihiro as she covered the bear's ears with her hand. "He's just being his usual mean self. He's actually really—"

"Lame-brained? Lazy? Terrible at a lot of things?" Akihiro offered mirthfully.

"I was gonna say 'sweet,'" said Sayori with a smile.

Akihiro felt himself turning red again. "Way to turn it w-weird, Sayori . . ." he mumbled.

"Eh?" As usual, Sayori didn't seem to mind the immediate effects of some of her words. "But it's true! You do all kinds of sweet things for me!"

Akihiro covered his face with his blanket to hide his mounting embarrassment. "I'll just rest now," he muttered.

Sayori laughed. "Um, is it alright if I use your computer?" she asked as she set down the teddy bear. "While you're resting, I can start looking for something we can cook. . ."

"Yeah, sure, go ahead," said Akihiro, waving his hand.

* * *

For the next fifteen minutes, there was relative silence as Akihiro closed his eyes and Sayori browsed online. Far from falling asleep or even napping, however, Akihiro found that he couldn't even go back to being drowsy. Unwittingly, he took this time to reflect on everything Sayori had said earlier, and what he had said in reply.

By all aspects, Akihiro found nothing wrong with what they had told one another. It was the truth, and the truth was bound to be an uncomfortable thing sometimes. Akihiro was just . . . _astounded _by the degree of intimacy behind their conversation. It was just like their conversation at the _Starlight_, but cranked up a few notches. Again, never before had they ever discussed Sayori getting a boyfriend or him getting a girlfriend, even in jest. Even Akihiro found this slightly weird, considering how the two of them liked to talk about practically anything under the sun.

At times, Akihiro wondered whether Sayori ever saw the actual effects or sentiments behind what she was saying. When she admitted that she didn't want to have a boyfriend because she wanted her best friend more . . . Akihiro reddened in his blankets once more. _No, she's just saying she likes the company of her best friend more, that's all, just like how you like her company better than any girl's_. But somehow, in his hearing, the words didn't seem to hold a lot of weight, especially since he knew that Sayori could never lie about such things. Meeting a new girl and becoming fast friends with her sounded nice, but Akihiro simply couldn't see just how that would lead to him asking that girl out. Everything just seemed to lead back to Sayori.

_Do I . . . Do I like her?_

Quietly, Akihiro cast a glance at her. Sayori was cheerfully humming to herself as she scrolled through pages of cooking recipes. She looked as oblivious and carefree as she always did whenever she was doing something she liked. She was still wearing the same clothes that Akihiro found her in earlier that morning, though now with a small white jacket to ward off the morning cold. Akihiro decided to take this time to look at her in a whole different way.

Somehow, even as he looked at Sayori in this manner, Akihiro couldn't find anything else to say about her. In his eyes, Sayori was a girl who had little to hide. She was open about mostly anything and untroubled about anything in the world. She always liked making friends and being nice to people, even though she had very few friends outside of school and only one best friend. She was also innocent, treating the world with an almost-childlike mentality that made her personality endearing but also made her slightly more sensitive compared to others. Akihiro knew this from experience; there were quite a few times in their youth that he had made Sayori cry by teasing her, as she always imagined that what she was being teased for was real.

Akihiro shifted gears in silence, thinking about what he would do for his best friend. For starters, what he had said earlier was true to the core: he always looked out for Sayori. He knew that she was prone to being ridiculed or laughed at for the innocent and naïve way she approached things and people, and he was always there to protect her and make sure that no one ever mocked her. If anyone else ever tried insulting Sayori on a more personal level and to hurt her with him around . . . well, they'll have another thing coming. Back when he and Sayori were ten years old, he had gotten into a fight after one of their schoolmates in elementary school began bullying Sayori. Though Akihiro had gone home that day with a warning from the principal, a scolding from his parents and a few bruises on his face, no one ever bullied Sayori again from that point forth. The fact that the bully went home worse for wear than he did was a plus to that.

Akihiro exhaled determinedly. Somehow, he felt comfortable that what he had said, no matter how intimate or how awkward it was, it was the truth, and he owed Sayori nothing less as her best friend. Perhaps he only felt embarrassed about it because, as he had mused, they had never discussed such things before. Even now, as he stared at Sayori and mulled over these thoughts, he couldn't help but feel his heart beat faster.

_As for her looks . . ._

"Akihiro?" Sayori's voice rang out.

Akihiro was knocked out of his reverie before he could address that thought. Quickly, he sat bolt upright on his bed, as if he had been caught red-handed doing something. "Y-Yeah?" he said nervously. He looked over at the computer screen and was thankful to discover that Sayori still had her back turned to him.

"How do you feel about cooking teriyaki?" asked Sayori.

"Uh . . . Teriyaki sounds good," said Akihiro.

"It's one of the easier recipes that I keep coming back to," Sayori went on. "Same with oyakodon and katsudon . . ."

"How about you?" Akihiro offered. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I kinda want oyakodon," said Sayori. "I mean, it's also pretty easy to make, plus the ingredients don't seem to cost that much. . ."

"Hold on, let me take a look," said Akihiro. He stood up and made his way towards the computer and next to Sayori. Once there, she scooted a little to the left so that he could lean towards the monitor to look at what she had looked up. Even so, she shifted nervously in her seat. Akihiro mused that perhaps it was because he was very close to her at the moment, and admittedly, he seemed to feel just as nervous as she was.

He took hold of the computer mouse with his right hand and held onto the back of his computer chair with his left. "So," he began. "Which are they?"

"Ah, w-well . . ." Sayori stammered. "Hold on, let me just—"

As she said this, she reached out instinctively to take the mouse and switch over to the other tabs she had opened. As Akihiro was now holding the computer mouse, however, she accidentally held his hand instead of the mouse. Akihiro, meanwhile, froze when he felt Sayori's palm momentarily cuddle around the top of his hand. For a moment, the two of them looked at each other, and Akihiro saw Sayori turn red.

Instead of drawing his hand away, Akihiro decided to help Sayori by not making her feel awkward. With a smile, he wiggled his hand out from under Sayori's palm and placed it atop her hand instead. "Alright, show me," he said.

Sayori turned even redder, but she smiled nonetheless. "A-Alright, over here . . ."

As she tapped and scrolled with the mouse, Akihiro held back a laugh as he saw that Sayori had at least seven tabs opened, all of them on various cooking websites. Food often outranked academics for Sayori, and she'd rather read recipes and stare at pictures of delectable dishes for hours rather than study for an exam. In his case, it was practically the same, except with video games instead of food.

The oyakodon recipe that Sayori had pointed out looked both easy to make and delicious, while both the teriyaki and katsudon required a bit more work and ingredients. Regardless of how much of the ingredients were already at hand, however, a trip to the grocery was still needed so that the two of them could buy some rice and chicken.

"So it's the oyakodon for you, and the teriyaki for me," said Akihiro as he looked over the web pages one more time.

"Don't you want the katsudon?" asked Sayori. "I know that's your favorite."

"Well, I do," Akihiro acquiesced. "But I always order katsudon whenever I eat out, so a fresh change might be good. Besides, I always wanna try what you suggest."

Sayori smiled ruefully. "You're humoring me again."

"Hey, I'm serious, alright?" said Akihiro. "Anyway, if that's final, then I guess we can go out and buy what we need."

"A-Alright, let's go!" said Sayori excitedly. For a moment, as they stepped away from the computer, Akihiro wondered if she waited for his hand to leave hers before she let go of the mouse.

* * *

As Sayori perused the ingredients on the grocery's shelves, she was wondering just how fast her heart was beating now, and for how long it has been going at such a pace. She felt ridiculously happy indeed, and almost lightheaded to the point where this trip to the grocery hit harder than the bump she took on her head. Going out with Akihiro after school was one thing, and staying over at his apartment for the weekend was quite another. To add to this, they were even cooking their own lunch and eating it together. At school, the two of them rarely got the chance to eat together, as Sayori often sat with her classmates while Akihiro discussed gaming matters with his online friends at another table. _If this isn't what boyfriends and girlfriends do, I don't know what is!_

Akihiro had gone to one side of the grocery to look for some chicken fillets and rice, while Sayori made her way to the condiments section for some mirin, sake and dashi. A shopping basket hung around her left arm, already holding the onions, ginger and scallions they needed for the dishes. It didn't take long before she found what she was looking for, just as Akihiro was coming back carrying with him a small pack of deboned chicken fillets and a bag of white rice.

"Got everything else?" Akihiro asked as he put the chicken and rice in the shopping basket.

"Yep!" replied Sayori.

"Yeah, that looks like everything we need," Akihiro muttered as he looked at everything they had picked. "Good thing we brought home the other eggs I bought earlier. C'mon, I'll take the basket."

"Ah, no, it's alright!" said Sayori almost breathlessly. "I can manage!"

Akihiro smiled. "Then we'll carry it together."

Sayori was almost beside herself with bliss as the two of them made their way to the counter, one hand each on the basket as they carried it between them. Privately, she thanked Akihiro for at least giving her a few chances to prove herself useful, especially on a big day like today. If she couldn't shoulder everything on her own like she wanted, splitting the effort in half with Akihiro was the next best thing. As she glanced down at their shopping basket, her eyes fell on his hand, and she remembered the warmth and gentleness of his palm and fingers when he held her hand—how many times she kept coming back to that thought today, she didn't know for sure.

Together, they placed the shopping basket onto the counter and began unloading their ingredients. The older woman who was manning the counter gazed at them with a knowing expression on her lined face. She smiled. "Is this a friend of yours, Akihiro?" she asked Akihiro.

"Yes, Mrs. Mori. My best friend, actually," Akihiro replied, smiling back. "Her name is Sayori."

"G-Good morning, ma'am," said Sayori both politely and cheerily.

The woman nodded, her eyes seemingly twinkling alongside her smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Sayori! Akihiro here's one of my grocery's best customers. Never fails to buy what he needs every week, though I must admit this is the first time he's ever brought anyone else here with him."

Sayori nodded as well, smiling. Though this particular grocery was not that far from her own apartment, she bought her necessities from another shop that was closer. Akihiro and Mrs. Mori exchanged a few more cordial words as their groceries were punched one by one on the cash register. When everything was taken care of, the two of them took out their wallets—Sayori had managed to convince Akihiro earlier to split the bill of their groceries with her. When Akihiro looked as if he wanted to pay for everything on his own again, she shot him a grumpy look, and he desisted.

As they were leaving the grocery—with Akihiro insisting on carrying the groceries alone—a portly old woman who was exiting the grocery along with them suddenly dropped one of the bags she was carrying. Some canned goods and vegetables rolled across the floor. Sayori and Akihiro quickly hurried up to help her retrieve them. The woman took the goods back gratefully with hands trembling from tremors, peering at them with her oversized spectacles.

"Thank you, darlings," she said in a weary voice that matched her age. "It's hard to keep track of everything you're holding when you're pushing eighty."

"Do you have someone accompanying you, ma'am?" asked Sayori with concern.

"No, but I manage. Been going out alone for the past ten years now since my husband died," said the woman. "My daughter's at work, so I can only rely on myself to go out and get some groceries while she's gone. It's slow-going, but it'll do."

"Do you want us to help you get a ride home?" asked Akihiro.

The woman smiled gratefully. "That's mighty sweet of you two."

They escorted the old woman up to the nearby street corner and stayed with her as they hailed a cab. Akihiro stood by them, holding all of their grocery bags while Sayori held the woman by the arm gently. When a cab had arrived, the woman turned back to them and once again voiced her gratitude.

"It was nothing, ma'am," said Akihiro as he placed the bags inside the cab next to the woman's seat. "We're glad to help."

"I hope I'll run into you two again the next time I go back here," she said. Before she entered the cab, she looked around as if to check and see if anyone else was listening. She leaned in and whispered with a grin, "Take it from me, you two make a very good couple."

Sayori's face flushed. She glanced at Akihiro, who quickly looked away with a face redder than hers. With a shy smile, Sayori remarked, "We're just b-best friends, ma'am."

The old lady seemed to have noticed them blush. She laughed and waved her hand airily. "Don't be too shy about love. The world needs more of it!"

When the cab had left, Akihiro turned to her. "Well . . . I guess . . . time to, um . . . go home?" he asked in a would-be casual voice.

"Sure thing," Sayori replied, the blush still burning on her cheeks and ears.

* * *

With the rice boiling away in a pot on the stove, the two of them set about preparing their ingredients. Akihiro was carefully slicing the chicken into equal portions while Sayori was peeling some garlic, ginger and a few of the onions. When this was done, she stared at her handiwork for a moment, wondering how best to chop up the vegetables. Determined to keep going and not ask Akihiro for help, Sayori picked up one of the peeled onions and readied the kitchen knife she was holding. _Thick or thin?_ She thought for a moment just what sizes the onions were in both recipes. To play it safe, she decided to try out a first cut.

As she pressed the knife onto the onion, however, the onion just rolled to one side. "Ah!" she muttered, grabbing the onion before it rolled off her chopping board. Carefully, she tried again, but the onion seemed to take on a life of its own as it rolled away before she could even cut her knife into it.

"Fiddlesticks," Sayori grumbled.

"You have to press the knife quick so that it cuts into the onion before it rolls," said Akihiro as he was cutting up the last of his chicken fillets. "And you push the knife forward. You don't drag it back."

"It figures," said Sayori; she had been trying to cut the onion by dragging the knife back in an effort to saw it in half. She held the onion fast with her left hand and propped the knife blade right atop it, but she found that she couldn't move the knife now out of fear of cutting her fingers.

"Here, I'll show you."

Sayori realized that Akihiro had just finished his work, with the fillets neatly arranged atop his chopping board. Akihiro took one of the onions and placed it next to the chicken. "You just . . . _push _and slice," he said, demonstrating everything in one smooth motion as he pushed the knife's blade forward. Sayori marveled at how easily the onion parted with Akihiro's slice.

"You're really good at this, Akihiro!" said Sayori.

Akihiro looked sheepish. "Just some internet pointers, like I said. Try it out, go ahead."

Sayori looked back at her own onion and breathed deeply. She closed her eyes and pushed forward with her knife. She felt the edge of the blade touch the chopping board's surface firmly, and somehow she knew she had done it. When she opened her eyes once more, however, she saw that she only managed to slide the knife down the onion's side without even cutting anything.

"Darn it!" she hissed. When Akihiro burst out laughing, she stamped her foot in frustration. "Don't l-laugh at me, it's not like I'm as good as you are!"

"Okay, okay, sorry," said Akihiro, still snickering as he moved closer to Sayori. "I shouldn't be laughing, really, because this was how I started out as well. Anyway, just keep trying, you'll get it!"

It took two more minutes before Sayori even got to slice her first onion. She went back and forth from worrying about cutting her fingers to trying to hold the onion firmly in place before it started rolling again. When she finally saw the kitchen knife strike true and cut the onion cleanly in half, she cried out excitedly. "Finally!"

"Well done," said Akihiro with a grin. "I took care of the rest while you were busy, by the way."

"E-Eh?" Sayori looked up and saw that, indeed, Akihiro had already cut up most of the onions and garlic by himself while Sayori was busy concentrating on her single onion.

She frowned at Akihiro. "I was supposed t-to do all that!"

"Well, if I waited for you, it'd be well past lunch by the time we're done!" said Akihiro, laughing.

Sayori stamped her foot once more. "Once a meanie, always a meanie!" she sulked.

"But that's only because there's something else you need to do," said Akihiro quickly. "Something more important!"

Sayori glowered at him. "And w-what's that?"

Akihiro jabbed his thumb over at the stove. "_You _will cook."

Sayori's frustration stopped at that moment. She had always wanted to try cooking on her own, and this was her first chance to do so. As a child, she had often watched her mother cook in the kitchen; it had been like watching a master at work, and from that moment onwards, Sayori treated food and cooking with enthusiasm. _After all, a food lover has to have at least a bit of knowledge and skill when it comes to cooking as well as eating, right?_

But as always, Sayori decided to put the risks into light first. "I might mess it up!" she cried out. She could not quite forget that the first time she tried cooking some rice alone, her apartment almost went up in flames.

"Well, as long as you don't poison or burn us both, we'll be fine," Akihiro joked. "But seriously, it's alright! The recipes looked pretty easy from what I saw. Besides, I'll be standing by to help you, okay?"

"A-Are you sure?" asked Sayori.

"There's a fire extinguisher right outside my apartment unit, if you're worried," Akihiro kidded.

"Very reassuring, Akihiro," said Sayori dryly.

The two of them decided to start with the teriyaki first—Akihiro assured Sayori that no matter what the outcome tasted like, it was entirely understandable because this was both their first time cooking something that went beyond scrambled eggs and bacon. Also, Akihiro remarked that at least if one dish was to be ruined, it would be the dish _he _would be eating. This made Sayori determined enough to try her very best. To prepare for everything, she went back online and copied down the instructions of the two recipes onto a piece of paper from one of Akihiro's notebooks.

The smells of both the oyakodon and the teriyaki soon filled the kitchen, causing Sayori's stomach to rumble. She had indeed taken on everything by herself, with Akihiro being relegated to a more minor role of getting what Sayori needed or stirring something that needed stirring. Multiple times, Sayori perused the written instructions she had prepared to make sure that she didn't miss anything. As she seasoned and tasted everything to check if things were at the right flavors, Akihiro checked on the rice and prepared the bowls they would be eating out of. In around twenty minutes, everything was done.

"Finally!" Sayori exclaimed. "That's that!"

"And we didn't burn my place to the ground!" said Akihiro cheerily. "But seriously, that just looks really awesome."

Sayori blushed. Indeed, the two rice bowls that now sat atop one of Akihiro's kitchen counters would not have looked out of place at a typical donburi diner: the teriyaki with its thick brown bull-dog sauce and tender chicken fillets, and the oyakodon with a combination of stewed chicken, onions and egg, all topped with chopped scallions for garnishing. To Sayori, the whole experience felt like finishing and passing a school project with flying colors.

Once they sat down and began eating, Sayori's surprise deepened as she realized that their dishes tasted as beautifully as they looked. One bite of the oyakodon sent her taste buds into bliss, and she closed her eyes as she chewed slowly and intently, savoring every little morsel. Across her from the table, Akihiro also looked enraptured as he ate the teriyaki, chewing more slowly than he usually did.

"Holy crap, Sayori," he mumbled. "I think we may have just had a breakthrough."

Sayori chewed more modestly this time, though she replied with her mouth still full. "I can't argue with that, Akihiro. It's like someone else cooked them!"

"Well, don't forget, _you _cooked them," said Akihiro, pointing his spoon at her for emphasis. "The next time you tell me you're not good at anything, I'm gonna remind you of what you did today."

Sayori gave him a rueful smile. "Now you're just patronizing me, Akihiro."

Akihiro frowned at her remark. "Do you have any idea what this teriyaki tastes like? I wouldn't mind eating something like this all the time. That's how good it is."

"W-Well, if I could only cook food for you all the t-time, I would, Akihiro . . ." Sayori murmured bashfully.

Akihiro looked up at her, a spoonful of teriyaki halting halfway towards his mouth. "I d-dunno about that, Sayori . . ." he commented evasively.

"Oh, come on, it's true!" Sayori cried out. "It's for m-my best friend, anyway!"

"Y-Yeah, I know," said Akihiro. "It's just that . . . ah, forget it."

"What is it?" asked Sayori. "Is t-there something wrong with what I said?"

"No, no! Nothing at all!" Akihiro replied quickly. "It's j-just that . . . um . . . I've been thinking about . . . a-about a few things . . ."

Though Sayori expected him to reveal just what exactly he was talking and thinking about, Akihiro didn't elaborate any further, and she decided to let it be for now. The two of them continued eating in relative silence, punctuating it only to convince one another to try each other's dishes. Again, Sayori was astonished at how good the teriyaki tasted, just like Akihiro had said, while Akihiro complimented her once more on her first time cooking once he had a couple of mouthfuls of oyakodon.

They finished eating at around twenty minutes past noontime. Sayori helped Akihiro clean up the table of their bowls and any of the kitchen equipment and utensils they used to prepare. All these went into the kitchen sink, and Akihiro immediately went forward and offered to wash up everything while Sayori rested.

"I want you to rest because . . . well, we're going somewhere," said Akihiro as he scrubbed the dishes clean with a soapy sponge. "I kinda have something planned for today, and it sure beats staying indoors playing _Dungeon Delvers _all day while you watch me. That is, if _you're _feeling up to it," he added.

"What is it?" asked Sayori.

"I'll keep it a secret . . ." Akihiro replied with a wink. "At least until we get there."

"Oh, come on!" Now Sayori's interest was truly piqued. He had surprised her most effectively yesterday with their sudden trips to the arcade and the night market, so she wondered what else Akihiro may have planned. "Can you at least give me a clue?"

Akihiro chuckled. "I dunno how I can do that without giving things away," he replied. "But all I can say is . . . well, let's just say you might love it. Or not, that's still a possibility."

"W-Well, if it was anything like yesterday . . . maybe I _will _love it," said Sayori hopefully.

Akihiro looked back at her, a knowing grin crossing his face. "I'll let you be the judge of that," was all he said in reply.


	14. Chapter 14 - Making Memories

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN – MAKING MEMORIES (SayoHiro)**

The sun was still high up by the time Sayori left with Akihiro, but the coldness of the day kept the afternoon heat at bay. More people were out and about in the residential quarter, either in groups or all alone. Sayori began to notice that Akihiro was leading her towards downtown again, which was more or less a ten-minute walk away from the neighborhood where their apartments were. She began imagining just exactly where in downtown Akihiro had planned to take her for such a rousing surprise.

Akihiro led the way a short distance in front of her, and while Sayori had expected him to get dressed as if they were going to the mall or something similar, he wore only a functional pair of clothes for his surprise trip: a blue shirt under his jacket, a pair of cargo shorts, and the black sneakers he usually wore for Physical Education at school. He had instructed Sayori to do the same, though she only needed to replace the blue shorts and fluffy slippers she had been wearing with a more casual pair of jean shorts and white sneakers.

The number of people on the streets and sidewalks soon swelled gradually as they walked deeper into downtown. Had it been a weekday, there would be even more people and vehicles about, even this early in the afternoon. Along the way, Sayori ran into some of her classmates and friends, a few of whom seemed to be having dates inside cafes or taking a stroll around certain venues such as the park. Akihiro, however, bypassed all of these locations with a grin. "We'll get there, don't worry," he remarked.

To Sayori's even greater surprise and confusion, Akihiro actually passed through most of downtown without stopping. Soon, the urban landscape comprised of various office buildings, shops and other such structures receded back into a residential area, though Sayori had never been in that part of the city much. Her puzzlement only continued to grow until she slowly realized that they were getting nearer and nearer—

"Akihiro," said Sayori, her eyes widening slightly. "A-Are we heading where I think we're heading?"

Akihiro only grinned once more.

When Sayori began to see the familiar landmarks—a playground sitting atop a patch of dirt on a vacant lot, a small roundabout with a single tree in the middle surrounded by flowers, and a few houses that looked familiar—her inkling slowly began to grow. Even Akihiro seemed to know that she was close to guessing everything as he picked up speed. Sayori hurried after him.

And there it was: a small recreational area where there were a few tall trees, bushes and stone benches about on a spacious patch of grass that sat directly next to a creek, which cut through the town like the stroke of a calligraphy brush. The grass had small patches of dirt every few places, like little brown islands on a sea of green, and there were a few shrubs with flowers here and there. Everything was enclosed inside iron railing, with an open gate that invited passersby and visitors in. It was a place that Sayori remembered all too well upon sight, even if she had not visited it for years and years now.

"It's . . . I-It's still here!" Sayori breathed.

"Yeah," said Akihiro, laughing. "Surprise, I guess?"

Sayori looked around and took in every little detail that the clearing had. So far, the only changes she saw were the flowery shrubs and the iron railing that fenced everything in. Everything else though, from the trees to the benches to the bushes, was the same way she remembered them to be back when she and Akihiro were both seven years old.

Overwhelmed by nostalgia, Sayori turned to Akihiro. "How d-did you get the idea of c-coming here?"

Akihiro shrugged as he put his hands inside his jacket's pockets. "It just . . . came to me when we were eating lunch. Remember when I said I was thinking about a few things? Well, I was going over what we talked about when we were at your place, and then it just sort of hit me."

Sayori smiled. "This is really incredible, Akihiro," she said. "I didn't even expect this place to still be here."

"To be honest, I also thought they tore down this place and built something over it after all these years," said Akihiro as he looked around. "But a couple of weeks ago, I had a group presentation to take care of with a few of my classmates, and our group leader's house was near here, so I decided to take a look after we worked and here it was. I was gonna ask you to come with me here once, but . . . well, schoolwork and games caught up to me," he added apologetically. "If we hadn't had that talk earlier, I wouldn't have remembered."

"Yeah, I forgot about this place as well." Sayori looked around rather wistfully. "It's been . . . what, eight years now? Ten?"

"Yeah, I guess," replied Akihiro. "Pretty long time, indeed!"

As she walked through the clearing's fences, memories flooded back inside Sayori's head. She remembered how their parents had brought the two of them here for the first time ever, and the fun they experienced then had made them want to return here every day after school. Soon, they learned not to ask for permission from their parents, and they would simply meet each other halfway and run all the way, eagerly anticipating how many trees they would climb and how long they would be playing tag or hide-and-seek.

All of a sudden, she heard Akihiro move right next to her. "Sayori . . ." he muttered.

In Sayori's ears, his voice seemed to have gone softer than it usually was all of a sudden. It made her heart skip a beat for some reason. She broke her gaze from the clearing and looked at him. "Y-Yes?"

"I have . . . um, something to tell you."

To her astonishment, Akihiro drew in very close to her, leaning forward as if to whisper something in her ear. Sayori swallowed nervously as she began to tremble, her knees in danger of giving way beneath her. Akihiro was now so close that she could almost smell his fragrance emanating from his jacket. Somehow, she vaguely remembered seeing a scene like this in a movie before—a romance, to be exact.

"Yes, A-Akihiro?" she murmured breathlessly, wondering just what Akihiro wanted to say, and why he seemed so serious, misty-eyed even. But before her thoughts reached a crescendo, she felt a small tap on her shoulder. Almost at the same time, Akihiro spoke, and his voice was laced with mirth.

"We're playing tag . . . and you're it."

It took Sayori a few seconds to calm herself enough to understand Akihiro's words. When she finally figured everything out, Akihiro was already running towards the other side of the clearing, laughing all the way. She stamped her foot on the ground. "No fair! I w-wasn't ready, meanie!"

"Had to have an early advantage, right?" Akihiro called out. "Besides, they fenced off the entire place, so there's no way you can use the creek as a safe zone now, Sayori!"

"I'll get you for this!" Sayori cried back as she started running towards him. "Get b-back here!"

It was almost as if they were back to being seven-year-olds. As they played tag, Sayori was without a care in the world. She laughed and ran, occasionally tagging Akihiro and darting behind some of the bushes and benches to avoid him in return. Akihiro looked to be having as much fun as she was, laughing and joking as he ran after her and from her. Several times, they tripped and jumped and shouted gleefully. They no longer cared just how many people passed by to look at them curiously as they played like little kids; the nostalgia was just too much. Soon, Sayori was starting to sweat and pant more frequently, and the soles of her white sneakers were already starting to turn brown from the dirt.

Once more, Akihiro was it, and now Sayori was thinking of a way to elude him one more time. Akihiro had her cornered near the end of the clearing with no benches or shrubs nearby to help her sidestep him. Even Akihiro sensed this.

"Nowhere to run, Sayori!" he called out.

Thinking on her feet, Sayori looked at the fencing surrounding them and saw that they were low enough for her to jump over. Grinning, she quickly climbed over them and made her way down the creek before Akihiro could react. Hastily, she trotted down towards the banks of the creek and, without thinking twice, waded out into the cold water.

The creek felt cool and refreshing, a relief from the heat and sweat that Sayori had built up from running around. Though she knew her sneakers were now waterlogged, she didn't mind too much. When the water reached just below her knees, she looked back at the bank and saw Akihiro leaning over the fencing, an indignant look on his face.

"Oh, come on, Sayori!" he yelled. "Really? The creek?"

Sayori laughed. "Are you gonna stand there and watch me here, or are you finally brave enough to get your shoes wet?" she teased. "Looks like after all these years, you're still afraid of the water, Akihiro!"

"Oh, really?" Akihiro retorted. "We'll see about . . . _that_!"

With that, he swung his feet over the railing and slid down the creek bank towards her. Sayori laughed even louder and waded out further into the creek as Akihiro trudged into the water with loud splashes.

"Come here, Sayori!" Akihiro grunted, laughing. "I'm gonna make you pay for getting my shoes wet!"

"Ah! No! Get away!" Sayori half-screamed and half-giggled as Akihiro began easily closing the distance between them. "Stay away, you meanie! I'll swim around here if I h-have to!"

"Still got longer legs than you do, Sayori!" said Akihiro. Sayori squealed and laughed even louder as she heard that he was just right behind her. In her excitement, she tried darting forward to escape, but she only ended up stepping awkwardly against a stone underwater. Her foot wobbled against it, throwing her off course.

"A-Ah!" Sayori swayed as she tried keeping her balance, but it was no use. Her feet merely scrambled up beneath her the more she tried to move, and soon she found herself falling backwards—but instead of falling into the water, she fell back straight into Akihiro's arms and chest.

"I got you!" said Akihiro. Thankfully for Sayori, his feet were planted more firmly on the creek floor, and his frame held out well as she toppled backwards into him. Quickly, Akihiro held her by the arms to steady her, pulling her into a sort of hug as she slowly regained her balance. She looked at Akihiro, and Akihiro looked back at her. After a few moments of silence, both of them began laughing nervously.

"I g-guess I'm it again?" Sayori asked guiltily.

"Technically, yes." Akihiro chuckled. "But we're gonna stop right there before we both go on an unplanned swim, alright?"

Walking hand in hand just in case someone slipped again, the two of them made their way slowly back towards the creek bed, kicking and wiggling their feet to drain the water from their sneakers. When they felt that they had dried up enough, they clambered back over the railing and into the enclosure to sit down on one of the stone benches there. Akihiro wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his jacket, while Sayori just rested her back and looked up at the sky. The fluffy clouds that hovered slowly above them in the sky seemed to match her current mood: serene and content.

All of a sudden, Akihiro stood up and walked towards one of the trees in the clearing. Sayori sat up straighter and watched him go, frowning curiously. For a few moments, Akihiro did nothing but look up at the tree, prompting Sayori to call out after him. "What are you doing?"

Akihiro looked back with a smirk. "I'm checking to see if I can still climb up there."

Sayori raised her eyebrows in wonder. "Are you gonna actually do that?" she asked.

Akihiro shrugged. "Haven't climbed up a tree in years," he replied. "I was a lot lighter back then, though I have longer arms and legs now. Should be easy."

Sayori felt rather apprehensive. "It could be different now, you know?" she stated. "Besides, the trees were a lot larger back then, when we were still small. They don't look as large as they did now."

"Yeah, you're right about that," said Akihiro. "But maybe I can . . . just . . ."

Without finishing his sentence, Akihiro suddenly jumped with his arms high up. Sayori gasped in surprise as she saw him grab onto one of the tree's low branches. His legs flailing a bit, Akihiro quickly planted his feet against the tree's trunk to steady the lower half of his body. Once he had supported himself in this way, he inched his forearms up to wrap them around the branch, trying to get a better grip overall.

"B-Be careful, Akihiro!" Sayori called out. She looked around to check if there were any passersby who would see Akihiro's antics, or if there was anyone who would tell them off. When there was no one in sight, she stood up and jogged towards the tree.

Akihiro was grunting as he scrambled up the tree. "If I can j-just . . ."

The sight of Akihiro's feet slipping and sliding away from the trunk worried Sayori further. "I think you should g-get down from there now, Akihiro!"

"N-Not yet!" Akihiro yelled. "I'm . . . a-almost—!"

"Almost" didn't cut it, however, as Akihiro's arms slid off the tree. His feet, useless now that he had nothing to hold on to, dragged themselves across the tree trunk futilely as he fell.

"_Akihiro!_" Sayori's horrified scream rang through the enclosure. She tried to rush forward in her agitation—to catch him or not, she did not know—but Akihiro had already landed on the grass. Though he managed to somehow direct his legs downwards in the split-second of his fall so that he would land on his feet, he still crumpled almost back-first into a heap with a dull _thud_.

Sayori swiftly knelt down next to him, her heart beating faster than it had ever done before. "Akihiro!" she exhaled. "Akihiro, look at me! Are you a-alright?" Even amid her panic, Sayori knew how futile her words sounded. _Of course he's not alright, stupid! _Her hands trembling, she held Akihiro's shoulders gently and desperately began checking his countenance for any visible injuries. Mercifully, in spite of the pained look on his face, Akihiro looked to have fared better than his fall had shown, though Sayori saw a bloody scrape on his left hand.

Slowly, wincing a little, Akihiro put his weight on his elbows and pulled himself up into a reclining position.

"Okay . . . that one hurt," he groaned.

Relief and indignation coursed over Sayori, overwhelming her as she let out a huge sigh. "I told you that was a bad idea, dummy!" she said exasperatedly. "You could've gotten hurt far worse, do you know that?"

"I know, I know," Akihiro muttered as he shook his head woozily. "That seemed a lot easier when I was seven."

"Why on earth did you even try that?" Sayori could not help but slap him a little on his shoulder.

Akihiro recoiled some more as he tried sitting upright. "I guess I just wanted . . . ugh, w-wanted to show off. . . R-Remember when I used to dangle upside d-down and make faces at you from up there?"

That riled Sayori up a bit further. "You could've b-broken some bones or . . . o-or hurt your back or s-something, Akihiro!"

Indeed, as she spoke and stared at the wound on Akihiro's hand, several worst-case scenarios popped up in Sayori's head: Akihiro getting paralyzed, Akihiro breaking an arm or a leg, Akihiro ending up in a coma for landing on his head. Perhaps she was overreacting now, but the terror that gripped her as she saw Akihiro fall was too much, and it led her to believe that at that moment, she could have lost her best friend. Sayori's heart was pounding so much that her ears began ringing, and her breaths became shallower by the second.

As always, Akihiro was quick to notice; perhaps the look on her face said it all. "H-Hey, it's alright, Sayori," he soothed in spite of the strain in his voice. "Ugh, crap . . . I'm fine, alright? Just got shook up bad, but I don't think I—ugh—b-broke anything . . ."

"B-But your hand . . ." Sayori pointed to his wound, her lip quivering a little.

"Oh, t-this?" Akihiro tried to shrug things off with a laugh. "It's j-just a scratch. Must've scraped myself when I slipped from the branch . . ."

"We're g-gonna take care of that as soon as possible, a-alright?"

"Yeah, of c-course," Akihiro assured her. With a grunt and a sigh, he began to stand up. Sayori hurriedly stood up and helped him stand by holding onto his arm. She guided him over to the bench where they been sitting on just a few minutes ago. Almost as soon as he sat down, Akihiro shook his head rapidly again and stretched his arms slowly. When he had done so, he took off his jacket and began patting it free of dust and dirt.

"Heh, it's pretty funny . . ." said Akihiro after a stretch of silence.

"W-What? Don't t-tell me you found your fall to be f-funny!" said Sayori incredulously.

"N-No, no, not that, dummy! It's just that . . . I remembered all the times when you would fall from a tree like I did back then, and I would be there in a flash to check on you. Fast forward years later and here I am, the first one to fall from a tree, and then . . . you're now the one rushing to help me."

Sayori pouted. "I kept falling because I wasn't a good climber," she remarked. "You fell because you were trying to s-show off!"

"Yeah, bit of a mistake on my part," Akihiro muttered ashamedly. "I'm really sorry if that . . . if I scared you."

Sayori let out a sigh. "It's a-alright," she conceded huffily. "J-Just pro—"

"Yeah, I promise," said Akihiro with a shamefaced smile before she could continue.

* * *

A bump to the head from a real accident seemed light compared to a heavy fall and a scratch on the hand from showing off. In his mind, Akihiro still felt guilty for causing Sayori to worry just because he got carried away. It had looked so simple and so easy in his mind back at the clearing, and the fun he had experienced had lifted his spirits to nostalgic heights. Then again, like they had said earlier, Akihiro had been lithe and agile when he was still a seven-year-old master tree-climber with a lot of credentials when it came to games like tag and hide-and-seek. Now that he was eighteen years old, his only athletic credentials included Physical Education classes and hours of exercise that involved computer games.

Sayori pulled him wordlessly into the nearest convenience store as soon as they had returned downtown. With worry never leaving her face, she immediately bought a small pack of tissue papers and a tiny bottle of isopropyl alcohol. Again, without talking, she dragged him over towards the nearest table, sat down, and began treating the scrape on his hand. They had washed the wound beforehand on a small working water tap that was installed in the enclosure, but Sayori insisted that it still needed disinfecting as soon as possible. Overcome by his guilt over the accident, Akihiro yielded to everything without hesitation or complaints.

The wound stung smartly as Sayori kept dabbing alcohol onto it. Akihiro hissed under his breath from the pain, though he didn't draw his hand away. He shifted his gaze towards Sayori, who looked just as focused as she had been when she was cooking earlier. Her brow was furrowed, and she was biting her lip a little as she concentrated.

He sighed. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I really am, Sayori."

When Sayori merely glowered at him and said nothing, Akihiro went on. "Y'know, it really is something else to see you like this."

"Like w-what?" Sayori muttered.

"Serious, concerned, focused," replied Akihiro. "It gives you a very different aura, Sayori, a change from your usual demeanor. It's really amazing."

Sayori fell quiet again, though color crept into her cheeks. Akihiro continued, "So many people tend to overlook that, you know? They always think you're just simply happy-go-lucky or naïve. Some might even think you're fragile or juvenile because of that. But if they ever saw you like this, or like how you were when you were cooking earlier, they'd be really surprised."

The flush on Sayori's face grew, and her hands softened the way they were applying alcohol on his wound. Akihiro smiled. "You never let me explain a few reasons why you'd make a good girlfriend to any boy, Sayori. Well . . . this is one of those reasons."

That did it. Sayori stopped moving, and her hands began trembling slightly. She turned her head and looked away, her cheeks taking on a rosy tint now. She put the cap back on the bottle of alcohol she had bought and crumpled up all the tissue papers she had used into a ball. She looked around at everything—the store's windows, the shelves filled with snacks and food, the vending machines and refrigerators—basically everything except him. Now, in the relative quietness of the convenience store, where only the ambient sounds of air conditioning and glass doors opening could be heard, Akihiro found that he could start observing Sayori thoughtfully again like he did back at his apartment.

In all honesty, Akihiro had never looked at Sayori in order to seriously scrutinize her looks. Ever since they were kids, he had simply treated her as his very best friend regardless of any quirks in attitude, let alone her physical qualities. Now, though, Akihiro found himself slowly marveling at Sayori's looks. In his mind—there being no other word for it at the moment—Sayori was _cute_. The way her blue eyes easily reflected her innocent personality outwards, the way her apricot-colored hair framed her face just right, the way her eyebrows would easily furrow whenever she felt upset or pressured, and the way her lips looked so soft whenever she pouted or smiled . . . all these were facets that Akihiro liked about her. Indeed, in his eyes and mind, Sayori was a mixture of innocent, gentle, uncomplicated and youthful all rolled into one, stuck at the fine line between young and matured, very different from other girls who had a more developed and refined aura of beauty around them.

And to Akihiro, that was just fine.

As if a door slowly opened itself in Akihiro's mind, there it was. A thought, an underlying thought that seemed to have been buried beneath years and years of fun and friendship. It started out small at first, and then it suddenly began growing, growing in Akihiro's consciousness until the realization kicked him in the gut.

He reached out and grasped her hand softly, the same way he had done back at her apartment. Sayori twitched in surprise as she looked at him, though she didn't seem keen on reciprocating the gesture at the moment. Akihiro looked deep into her brilliantly blue eyes. He could feel heat creep up his neck and ears, but he remained firm in his resolve.

Softly, bit by bit, he wound his hand underneath Sayori's palm and unfolded her fingers. Sayori wasn't resisting, nor did she pull her hand back; she simply looked at Akihiro as her cheeks turned even redder. Encouraged by this, Akihiro carefully intertwined his fingers with Sayori's until he was practically holding her hand in full. Once he had done so, he smiled at her, though he wondered for a moment if Sayori would turn away and extricate her hand from his. Was she hesitating out of frustration from earlier, or was she simply too overwhelmed by what Akihiro had said and was doing? More moments passed. It was beginning to turn into an awkward scenario, and yet Akihiro knew that he must not let go.

And then it happened. A twitch at first, and then a few hesitant curls of her fingers. Little by little, Sayori's hand wrapped itself around his hand, and she smiled softly back.

"Sayori? Akihiro?"

A female voice knocked both of them out of their reveries. In a flash, the two of them pulled back their hands. Akihiro quickly looked up, his eyes widening in surprise as he recognized the girl who had called out to them: Monika Steinbeck, Sayori's friend and classmate, and the most popular girl in their year.

Monika was tall—though not quite as tall as Akihiro was—and strikingly pretty, with very long brown hair tied up in a ponytail that was held together by a large white ribbon. Her face had a confident, good-natured disposition about it, and her eyes were of a more vibrant green shade compared to Akihiro's. Her svelte and well-formed figure was clad in a brown wool sweater and black skinny jeans, capped off with a pair of white slip-on shoes. She held a dark brown handbag in one hand and a plastic bag containing some newly-bought goods in the other.

"Moni!" said Sayori in surprise. Her eyes darted for a moment towards Akihiro, as if asking: _did she see us?_ "H-How nice to see you here!"

Monika beamed. "Same here. Hello, Akihiro!"

Akihiro knew Monika rather well compared to other people in their year; he had been classmates with her only last year, and even then Monika was easy to recognize given how she was quite possibly the most versatile and gifted girl in their entire batch, proficient in academics and sports alike. Such a combination of beauty and talent gave her a very popular reputation both in and out of school. "Hi, Monika," he replied with a nervous smile.

"What brings you downtown, Moni?" asked Sayori.

"I'm meeting Kenta over at the mall in a moment. He's a friend from 3-C," she replied. She held up her plastic bag. "Just stopped by here to buy some snacks, was getting hungry and all. How about you guys?"

As Monika looked at the two of them, Akihiro swallowed anxiously. There seemed to be a knowing air behind Monika's smile, as if she knew exactly what they had been doing before she saw them. Sayori giggled a little, but she said nothing immediately. Akihiro decided to fill in for her. "W-We just got back from somewhere," he replied. "Hurt my hand a bit, so Sayori dragged me in here so that she could buy some stuff to clean it with. Wouldn't let me go home unless she did."

Monika tutted as she looked at the wound on his hand. "Well, Sayori's right in that sense, especially when it comes to her best friend," she stated. "She keeps talking about you in our class, you know?"

Sayori fidgeted timidly as Akihiro looked at her. "Really?" he asked Monika with a smirk.

Monika laughed. "Yep! She does that a lot of times—lunchtime, during our free periods, or when we have group activities. It's always a running commentary on stuff she thinks you'd enjoy, or how she needs to leave the classroom pronto at four so that you two can go home together."

"M-Monika!" Sayori exclaimed as she blushed.

Monika patted her on the shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with that, Sayori. Besides, I think it's all very sweet!" She turned back to Akihiro. "I always see you two walking home after school. It's really a charming sight. Sayori gets teased about it sometimes, but she always tells us it's alright."

Now Sayori buried her face in her hands from embarrassment. Akihiro couldn't blame her. It was as if Monika was an elder sister who was spilling the beans on her little sister's blunders to a friend. Akihiro resisted the urge to burst out laughing from the sight of her melting from mortification. "I didn't know that," he admitted in an amused tone.

"Oh, trust me, Sayori only says nice and sweet things about you!" said Monika. "She always tells us how you keep helping her with all kinds of things, like at school, and the stuff you do sometimes after school. If I didn't know she was talking about you, I'd have assumed she was talking about someone else, like a boyfriend!"

"Well, I thought she was telling you guys something worse about me," Akihiro joked. "Like me being a slacker or a future candidate for NEET."

"Y-You two are both meanies!" Sayori cried out, her lip quivering a little. Both Akihiro and Monika laughed, and Monika once again patted her reassuringly on the shoulder.

"I mean that in a good way, Sayori," she said kindly. "Besides, I'm rather jealous of you two, you know?"

"Don't you have, like, a ton of friends?" asked Akihiro.

"Yeah, inside and o-outside of class!" Sayori added quickly.

Monika gave them what appeared to be a sad smile. "Well, s-sure. But . . . I don't know. Sometimes I just imagine what it feels like to have a really close friend all the time. Kenta's an awesome guy to be with, but we don't always have time to meet. Everything's always so formal and strict and . . ." She shook her head. "Ah, I'm just droning on a bit now. Anyway, are you two going anywhere else?"

At that moment, Akihiro remembered the rest of what he had planned; everything had been temporarily forgotten after his fall. "Actually, yes," he replied. "We'll go get a snack someplace else."

Sayori's eyes lit up instantly. "We are?!" she exclaimed.

Monika and Akihiro laughed at her reaction; apparently, Monika also knew of Sayori's love for food. "Yeah, I was thinking of having us eat somewhere we haven't gone before," he told Sayori.

"Ooh, I have a suggestion if you guys want it!" said Monika. "There's a really good place not far from here. Ever heard of the _Cocoa Connection_?"

Akihiro shook his head. Sayori did so as well. "Well, it's this really cozy bistro that I usually go to during weekends. It's just down the road from here, to the left," Monika continued. "If you guys like coffee, tea and pastries, that's a good place to try, trust me."

"Sounds good," said Akihiro. "I mean, we don't always eat downtown so I'm not really familiar with some places here, but as long as it has enough cakes, Sayori's totally fine with it."

"Mmm . . . Cake . . . I mean, y-yeah, whatever's good!" said Sayori, who snapped out of her food-induced trance. "Do you go there often with your friends, Monika?"

"Ah, well . . ." Monika laughed nervously. "To be honest, I usually go there alone, though I did go there with Kenta a couple of times before. The ambience is really good if you wanna read or relax or just be by your lonesome, but it's a _perfect _place for couples."

"Couples?" Akihiro looked anxiously at Sayori, whose face reddened.

"Yep!" Monika, who had checked her cellphone at that moment, didn't seem to have noticed their reactions. "Oops, Kenta's already at the mall. I have to go. Have fun, you two! See you around!"

And just like that, the two of them were alone again. Sayori was once again avoiding Akihiro's eyes, and Akihiro himself felt rather discomfited after Monika's words. Of course, he should've expected sooner or later that he wasn't the only person Sayori talked to, or that she would talk about him with her classmates and friends. Akihiro had grown so used to being only with Sayori for many years that he didn't immediately realize such things, much like how he had never taken the time to observe Sayori as, indeed, a possible girlfriend. In spite of the embarrassment that both of them undoubtedly felt from Monika assuming that they were officially a couple, Akihiro was moved by how often Sayori spoke of him when she was with her friends, and how highly she did so. It shed into light thoughts that he had never entertained consciously, thoughts such as how much he did like Sayori, both as a friend and possibly as someone more than that.

"Well," said Akihiro. "D'you wanna check out that place Monika suggested?"

Sayori gulped. "B-But . . . it might be embarrassing," she stammered.

Though Akihiro knew exactly what Sayori meant, he asked nonetheless, "How?"

"Monika said it's a p-place for couples. . . Maybe some people will see us and think we're . . . a couple or something. . ."

Akihiro stared at her for a moment. "You say that like it's a bad thing, Sayori," he said softly.

"N-No!" Sayori cried out. "No, I didn't mean it like t-that! I j-just meant . . . it might be embarrassing for you, for people to t-think that I'm . . . I'm y-your . . ."

Her voice trailed off, and yet the silence that followed spoke volumes for Akihiro. He could almost see the conflict warring behind her pretty blue eyes. In the span of a few days, everything seemed to have changed between them, as Sayori turned into someone who was both his closest and dearest friend . . . and someone who wanted to be more. Akihiro understood now what Sayori was afraid of, and why she kept directing him towards other possibilities—and away from her figuratively.

In silence, he reached out and held Sayori's hand again, picking up where they had left off before Monika had arrived. Sayori jerked a bit in surprise, but Akihiro held on to her tightly. His heart beating madly in his chest, he took a deep breath. The thought that he had minutes before resurfaced in the form of a question—a question because Akihiro somehow wanted to see how his self would react or answer to it.

_Do I like Sayori, my best friend, as someone more?_

In his mind, the thought pulsed, and the answer to that question became crystal clear.

"Well, if it's _you_ . . . it's fine."

And then, without hesitation, without repulsion or distress, Akihiro gently pulled Sayori's hand towards his face. He closed his eyes, decided for a split-second, and pressed his lips gently on it.

In Akihiro's mind and hearing, the world seemed to stand still at that moment. It was all a new experience, a different kind of rapture. Everything that the two of them had over the many years that they had been friends, every little memory that he had with Sayori, it all just seemed to replay inside his head, both fast and slow at the same time. Somehow, he knew that when he opened his eyes once more, he would be looking at someone who was more than his best friend now, more than the sweet, innocent and caring girl that he had grown up with.

Akihiro opened his eyes slowly and looked up. Sayori wasn't moving. She just sat where she was, trembling a little. Her cheeks were in danger of bypassing pink and turning red. Her eyes were wide and misty, and her mouth was slightly open. _Don't break the gaze_, came a voice inside Akihiro's head. _Don't break the gaze._

Tears trickled and fell from Sayori's eyes, and for a moment, Akihiro's heart sank. Were those tears of joy or sorrow? Had he gone too far? Had he made everything more complicated and convoluted than it needed to be? Did he just doom his friendship with Sayori? Did—

Sayori stood up from her seat, hurried over next to him, and pulled him in a tight embrace. She nudged her head against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. In between the small sobs she was now making, Akihiro could hear her whispering:

"Thank you, A-Akihiro. T-Thank you. . ."


	15. Chapter 15 - Special Encounters

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN – SPECIAL ENCOUNTERS (MoniKenta)**

As Monika tied her long brown hair up into a ponytail with her favorite white ribbon, she couldn't help but smile at her reflection in the ornate mirror that stood next to her bed. Kenta had been really worried about what she had planned for the two of them for Sunday since she had told him last night, and while Monika enjoyed watching him panic in an indirectly cute manner as they texted each other, she couldn't hide her own excitement in the end. Poor Kenta's apprehension only grew to epic proportions when she had told him that they would go out today instead of waiting for Sunday. Monika assured him—in between fits of giggles as she texted—that he had nothing to worry about.

"_i'm in big trouble now_ :( _big time big trouble_"

"_don't be! it's gonna be fine, i promise!_ :D"

"_y u do dis 2 me monika_ :("

";)"

Kenta's panic was eased a little when Monika admitted that she wanted the two of them to go to the mall for the afternoon. She refused to budge about what the surprise would be, however—like she had realized early last night at the arboretum, it didn't matter where the two of them went to; rather, the important thing was _what_ they could do to hang out and pass the time. Somehow, Monika sensed that what she had planned might seem a bit too forward for some, and her excitement was being interrupted by a few fleeting moments of apprehension about everything, but she pushed these thoughts aside. The world of infinite choices was starting to open itself up more and more to her, and she was the one making the decisions now.

Because the afternoons had a habit of growing cold when the sun recedes, Monika decided to prepare for the chill by wearing a brown wool sweater on top of a simple black shirt, with black skinny jeans and a smart pair of white slip-on shoes to match. When she was done tying her ribbon and checking out anything that needed addressing in her chosen attire, she picked up her handbag and exited her room.

Her driver, Mr. Fujita, was having coffee at the dining table while talking to his wife, the housekeeper. The two of them looked up as Monika walked down the stairs. Mrs. Fujita stood up and smoothed out the apron she wore over her simple blue dress. "Will you be coming home for dinner tonight, Miss Monika?" she asked.

"I'll call home and tell you as soon as I know, Mrs. Fujita," said Monika. "I don't know how long I'll be gone, so I might end up eating dinner downtown again."

"Do you need me to drive you there, Miss Monika?" asked old Fujita as he stood up.

"No need, Mr. Fujita," replied Monika cordially. "I'll just walk. The fresh air is always worth it. But I'll call you as well later so that you'll know if I need to be picked up later tonight!"

After taking her leave of the Fujitas with a smile, Monika breathed deeply as she went out the front door and treaded the stone pathway towards her home's front gate, passing by the carefully trimmed hedges and shrubs that dotted the front garden. It was a good day that added to her excited mood greatly, and she could almost feel a spring in her step as she walked down the street and towards downtown. She texted Kenta and saw from his subsequent reply that he was on his way to the mall as well. As she walked, she began thinking idly.

Just a week ago, she had felt so trapped in her predicament, not knowing whether she was permitted to at least go out and be herself. Now, she was going out more to spend some quality time with a new but welcome companion like Kenta, something she had rarely done of her own volition without being shepherded by a gaggle of people who fawned over her—often times, whenever she asked her other friends to go out, they would always flock around her and keep her company like she was a celebrity of some sort. Thus, Kenta came as a breath of fresh air to all that. She still found it rather odd, however, that Kenta of all people was the one whom she felt very comfortable with at the moment, not counting the other people whom she considered genuine in her life. Moreover, like before, she couldn't deny that there was something about the way Kenta was as a person that she found unusually special in spite of his candid simplicity and unabashed way of speaking. Was it the idea that she had been reluctantly coasting so high atop a row of clouds for most of her life that the simple things seemed foreign to her? Had she been trapped for so long in her comfortable but sheltered life that what seems normal is worth exploring without hesitation?

As these thoughts drifted through her mind, Monika soon realized that she was feeling a bit hungry. She had eaten rather sparingly earlier—a simple salad that Mrs. Fujita had prepared—so she mused that a few snacks wouldn't hurt. As she rounded a corner into downtown, she saw a convenience store that caught her eye. She decided to cross the street and buy her snacks there.

The interior of the convenience store was silent apart from the sounds of the air conditioning humming in the air, the quiet noises of some buyers paying for their purchased goods, and the occasional beep from the lone counter's cash register. Monika picked out her snacks from the aisles and refrigerators quickly—three bags of chips and two bottles of fruit juice—and sent another text to Kenta, asking him if he was close to the mall yet. As she took her snacks from the clerk and turned around, she was greeted with a most curious sight.

Sitting at one of tables in the store was her dear classmate Sayori Matsuzaki, one of the few people whom she was on very good terms with. In front of Sayori, holding her hand and looking just as enraptured as she was, there was Akihiro Hasegawa. Monika had known Akihiro as an old classmate and as Sayori's best friend, though admittedly she was not yet too familiar with him as she was with Kenta or Sayori. At first, Monika thought that the two of them were simply hanging around the convenience store as most friends would do, but the way the two of them were holding hands and the misty-eyed expressions on their faces told her that there was something happening between the two of them.

Almost unwittingly, it made her think of Kenta, and that made her call out to them. "Sayori? Akihiro?"

Startled, Sayori quickly pulled away her hand from Akihiro's and turned around. "Monika!" she said, her blue eyes widening a little. "H-How nice to see you here!"

She smiled at them. Sayori's reaction and the way she glanced sideways at Akihiro uneasily told her many things. "Same here. Hello, Akihiro!"

Akihiro smiled nervously back, evidently recognizing her. "Hi, Monika."

"What brings you downtown, Monika?" asked Sayori.

"I'm meeting Kenta over at the mall in a moment. He's a friend from 3-C," she replied. "Just stopped by here to buy some snacks, was getting hungry and all. How about you guys?"

She held back the urge to giggle a little as Sayori laughed shyly, partially confirming her thoughts that the two of them were sharing a tender moment together. Akihiro replied for her. "W-We just got back from somewhere. Hurt my hand a bit, so Sayori dragged me in here so that she could buy some stuff to clean it with. Wouldn't let me go home unless she did."

He held up his left hand, which had a small but bloody wound on it. Sayori looked even more nervous now beside him, as if what she had done was something very awkward, but Monika instead found the entire thing adorable: Sayori doing everything she can to take care of an injury her best friend sustained. This kind of sweetness was what made her count Sayori as a sweet and genuine friend to anyone she encountered, though Monika also sensed that Sayori's sincerity was extra special when it came to Akihiro for obvious reasons.

Monika decided to have a bit of fun. "Well, Sayori's right in that sense, especially when it comes to her best friend," she remarked. "She keeps talking about you in our class, you know?" And indeed, talking extensively about Akihiro was one of Sayori's favorite activities in 3-A, and it was something that Monika always found charming, especially since Sayori was prone to saying these kinds of things with carefree enthusiasm, indicating just how highly she thought of her best friend and how unabashed she was about stating her sentiments about him.

Akihiro smirked a little at Sayori. "Really?" he asked Monika. Next to him, Sayori fidgeted shyly, causing Monika to giggle a bit.

"Yep! She does that a lot of times—lunchtime, during our free periods, or when we have group activities. It's always a running commentary on stuff she thinks you'd enjoy, or how she needs to leave the classroom pronto at four so that you two can go home together."

Sayori's face reddened. "M-Monika!"

Warmed by Sayori's childlike petulance, Monika patted her on the shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with that, Sayori. Besides, I think it's all very sweet! I always see you two walking home after school. It's really a charming sight. Sayori gets teased about it sometimes, but she always tells us it's alright."

"I didn't know that," Akihiro mumbled in an amused tone. The two of them were visibly refraining from laughing out loud as Sayori hid her red face in her hands.

"Oh, trust me. Sayori only says nice and sweet things about you!" Monika continued mirthfully. "She always tells us how you keep helping her with all kinds of things, like at school, and the stuff you do sometimes after school. If I didn't know she was talking about you, I'd have assumed she was talking about someone else, like a boyfriend!"

"Well, I thought she was telling you guys something worse about me, like me being a slacker or a future candidate for NEET," Akihiro stated jokingly.

"Y-You two are both meanies!" Sayori exclaimed.

This time, Monika and Akihiro couldn't help but laugh. Monika decided to assure Sayori that it was all just friendly banter by patting her again on her shoulder. "I mean that in a good way, Sayori," she told her. "Besides, I'm rather jealous of you two, you know?"

And in a way, she was a little jealous indeed. The level of intimacy that these two best friends had with each other, with their jokes and teasing punctuated with moments of seriousness and closeness like how she had found them earlier. . . these were things that Monika had yet to experience, things that she could only address through her poems and thoughts.

"Don't you have, like, a ton of friends?" asked Akihiro.

"Yeah, inside and o-outside of class!" Sayori chimed in.

Monika blinked. She remembered Kenta asking the same questions as well before. The memory of it and the truth behind it—that in spite of how many people knew her, there were very few that she could consider real friends—made her smile sadly. "Well, s-sure. But . . . I don't know. Sometimes I just imagine what it feels like to have a really close friend all the time. Kenta's an awesome guy to be with, but we don't always have time to meet. Everything's always so formal and strict and . . ."

_What is this? Am I . . . Am I making excuses?_

Feeling conscious all of a sudden about this, with her mind suddenly thinking about Kenta again, Monika decided to focus instead on the exciting afternoon she had planned with him. She shook her head and smiled once more. "Ah, I'm just droning on a bit now. Anyway, are you two going anywhere else?"

* * *

Kenta stared at the glass windows of the random clothing store he was standing in front of, and yet his eyes were staring at nothing in particular. His nervousness was mounting with each passing minute as he waited for Monika. He had arrived earlier at the mall than she did, and while he preferred it that way over being late any day, he wanted nothing more than to start their afternoon hangout immediately. Thankfully, because he often went downtown with Daisuke and Naoki during Saturdays ever since they were in middle school, his mother didn't sniff out anything suspicious. His older sister, who was the more vigilant guesser, had gone off somewhere, saving him the trouble of being figured out. Moreover, he hadn't told Daisuke and Naoki yet about what happened last night, even as they texted him over and over once he had gotten home. Kenta decided to forego telling them until tomorrow or Monday in school.

That Monika scheduled their downtown trip a day earlier out of excitement struck Kenta profoundly. Granted, he was excited as well, but he had been caught rather off guard by this surprising turn of events that he couldn't even sleep well last night, well after Monika had texted him goodnight. Like he had told her back at the arboretum, he didn't do well with any kind of surprises, and less so when he was the one being surprised. Luckily, regardless of whatever Monika may have planned, he still had most of the money he had saved at the ready for hopefully any kind of trip that the mall would give them.

Dressing up for a downtown trip with Daisuke and Naoki usually took him ten minutes tops, but Kenta had found himself enduring thrice as long as that as he rummaged around his cabinet for clothes that Monika would not find too casual. With this being the first time that they would see each other in clothing other than their school or P.E. uniforms, Kenta felt the need to dress for the occasion. In the end, however, his best clothes amounted to only a grey hoodie, his newest pair of black jeans and his favorite black sneakers, so he settled for these.

Monika arrived almost ten minutes after he did. She looked nothing short of spectacular even in just a brown sweater, a pair of jeans and white shoes. She waved her hand and quickened her pace once Kenta caught sight of her.

"Hello! Sorry if I arrived a bit late," she said happily. "I bought us some snacks, and I ran into a couple of friends before I got here."

"That's alright," said Kenta with a grin, slightly embarrassed at the thought that Monika had just bought something for the two of them. "So, um . . . w-what are we gonna do?"

Now that Monika had arrived, his nervousness about the rest of the afternoon reached its peak. He knew that Monika wasn't far from being a girl full of surprises, and that an afternoon of simple window shopping wasn't what she had in mind.

"Well, since we're here already, I may as well tell you," said Monika, giggling. "We're going to go watch a movie!"

Kenta stared, completely at a loss for words as his face turned red. Going to the mall or the arboretum or the night market seemed simple and innocent enough. Watching movies was a whole different matter, especially when a girl—and a girl as beautiful and perfect as Monika no less—was involved. It made him suddenly conscious of the degree of physical intimacy it may have. In their previous encounters, he always maintained a respectful physical distance from Monika—such as sitting across from her at a table or being at arm's length away from her as they walked side by side—and only she could close that gap if she wished. In a cinema, however, they would have to sit a bit closer next to each other.

Monika laughed some more as he scratched his head nervously. "Are you okay?" she asked gaily.

"Y-Yeah, never better!" he blurted out, trying to laugh along with her. "I'm just, ah . . . um . . ."

His words trailed off when Monika patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. "It's okay," she told him, winking. "You one-upped me with your surprise trip to the arboretum yesterday, so I figured I'd return the favor!"

Kenta bowed, wanting nothing more than to pull his hoodie over his head to hide the redness of his face. "W-Well, I think that even if y-you told me what you had in mind, I still wouldn't have been p-prepared for it. . ." he admitted. "But don't get me wrong, I'm totally down with it. W-Watching a movie with you, I mean!"

Monika's emerald eyes shone as she beamed. "I'm glad to hear that, Kenta."

Within fifteen minutes, they were sitting comfortably inside one of the cinemas on the mall's second floor, ready to watch the movie that Monika had chosen: _Silver Solstice_, which appeared to be a drama flick with a bit of romance in it. Though such movies weren't always part of his to-watch list, Kenta was more than willing to try out something new for a change, especially where Monika was involved. Initially, Monika was worried that she might be forcing him to watch something only she liked, but he assured her that it was all good with him by stating the other romance and drama movies he had watched at home with his mother and sister when there was nothing else to do.

The inside of the cinema wasn't as jam-packed as Kenta had initially expected it to be, leaving the two of them to choose where to sit freely. Monika settled for a spot close to the front rows at the right side of the cinema. Kenta followed dutifully behind her, clutching the plastic bag of snacks she had bought earlier as well as a small tub of popcorn and a couple of candy bars they had bought at the cinema's snack booth. As Monika sat down, Kenta considered for a moment before sitting down one seat away from her.

Monika glanced at him. "Kenta, why are you sitting there?"

Kenta grimaced awkwardly, stammering, "Well, I figured that w-we could just, you know, set the snacks down in this seat b-between us so . . . um, y-you know . . ."

As usual, Monika defused his words skillfully with another beautiful smile. "You can sit next to me, silly. It's alright."

"Ah, w-well, um . . . are you . . . are you s-sure about t-t-that?"

Monika nodded.

* * *

As the movie progressed on-screen, Monika was caught in a roller-coaster ride of emotions and reactions. Despite its obvious premise as a romantic drama movie, _Silver Solstice _had many moments that had her smiling wistfully or tugging at the sleeves of her sweater, both from the protagonists' saccharine encounters with each other to their somber moments of turmoil and despair with their families. Even as someone who has never had a significant other, she felt attached to the experiences that were being depicted. In particular, the female protagonist's conflict about her feelings for the male protagonist had her wishing that she could write a poem on the spot to relay the raw emotions the movie was giving her.

Beside her, Kenta was watching in an immersed manner as well. Again, she had felt rather guilty about inviting him to watch something that he may not be comfortable with, but Kenta surprised her by actually focusing on the movie, asking about certain pieces of dialogue that he may have missed in hearing, and even giving reactions to some of the dramatic encounters, though not to the point of disturbing her too much. Monika found herself guessing at first whether or not Kenta was merely pretending to be interested, but the way he spoke and looked at the screen somehow told her that he was really watching the movie _with_ her instead of _for _her. In particular, Kenta was attached to the family issues that the protagonists were experiencing, most especially the way that the male protagonist was seeking approval from his parents for the career he was trying to follow. As Kenta spoke to her, Monika was reminded of what he had shared last night at the arboretum about his father and what else the two of them had in common.

The movie ended around the early evening. Long after they had exited the cinema, the two of them were still talking about the movie's points. Monika was pleasantly surprised at how accurately Kenta picked up on many things in spite of the simple way he discussed them with her. It was all an additional testament to the hidden profundity that Kenta kept hidden under his unswerving and slapdash exterior. To think that he was still feigning interest would be foolish at this point for her.

As the two of them walked and talked, for the second time that day, Monika ran into Sayori and Akihiro, who were walking very closely together and talking cheerfully with each other. The four of them converged outside a clothing store, with Monika formally introducing Kenta to the two before asking them how their day had gone. She guessed from they were dressed right now—Sayori in a brown wool coat over a grey dress, black leggings and matching white shoes, Akihiro with a jacket over a black shirt, a pair of grey jeans with black sneakers—that the two of them had definitely gone on a date that started at the _Cocoa Connection_.

When the four of them went their separate ways, Monika became unable to stop herself from teasing the two of them one more time by calling out to them to say how good of a couple they were. Monika was still giggling when she and Kenta entered a donburi restaurant to have their dinner there; Akihiro had looked very flustered at her words as Sayori practically dragged him off into the distance, her face turning scarlet.

"She's gonna be pretty peeved at me when we see each other again this Monday," said Monika gaily. "But I can't help it. Don't they just look perfect together?"

"Well, I don't know them that much, but they do look like a good couple," replied Kenta. "Are they current classmates of yours?"

"Only Sayori," said Monika. "Akihiro was my classmate last year. I'm just really happy that they're taking this direction with their relationship, especially with how long they've been best friends. I mean, if you've heard Sayori talk about Akihiro when he's not around, you'd know what exactly she was thinking."

Kenta smiled. "That's pretty nice."

The place they had gone into—a small joint aptly named _Little Bowls—_wasn't as polished as the _Cocoa Connection_, with its ordinary table tops and brown leather seats enshrined in an interior with dark grey vinyl walls adorned with the restaurant's food items on large posters, but it was nonetheless a comfortable place. The next fifteen minutes were spent discussing the remaining points of _Silver Solstice _as the two of them ate—Kenta with gyūdon, Monika with an all-veggie donburi, with the bill split between them.

Soon, Monika's mind wandered back towards the image of Sayori and Akihiro walking together, which soon led to her thinking once again about how envious she rather felt earlier. It wasn't a negative kind of envy that was directed at anyone—after all, she was very happy indeed for Akihiro and Sayori—but it made her conscious about her situation nonetheless. She looked at Kenta, who was busy shoveling beef and rice into his mouth with his chopsticks. She set down her own chopsticks and sighed.

Without thinking, she asked, "Kenta, have you ever had a girlfriend?"

Kenta coughed and sputtered, evidently startled to the point of choking a little on his food. Monika hastily cried out, "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to surprise you like that!"

Kenta waved his hand as he set his bowl down, downing his glass of iced tea in one go. He cleared his throat loudly, and Monika could see his ears almost as red as his hair. "It's alright, no worries," he gasped as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I just wasn't expecting . . . _that _kind of question."

"I apologize if it was too forward," said Monika worriedly. "I wasn't exactly thinking straight when I said it."

"No, it's okay, I'm fine now," said Kenta as he breathed deeply to calm himself. "A-Anyway, to answer your question . . . nope, never had a g-girlfriend. Ever."

Monika didn't know whether to be surprised or not. "Not even a childhood sweetheart?"

Kenta shook his head. "To tell you the truth, I'm . . . n-not exactly that great with girls," he said, looking down. "I mean, that's always been the case."

"But I'm sure you tried going out with someone before," Monika remarked.

"Well, y-yeah," said Kenta. "'Tried,' take note," he added with a short laugh. "Anyway, er . . . why d-did you ask?"

_Why indeed? _Monika fell silent. She reflected on the question like she would with a debate topic, wondering what to answer. Her emotional side told her that it was merely a harmless accident, borne from the envy she felt at having no significant other yet, but her logical side deduced that she didn't need to blurt out such a question simply because of how she felt, and that she shouldn't feel too envious because there was nothing wrong with her having no relationship experience yet.

"Um, it's okay, you don't h-have to answer that," Kenta went on after a few silent moments.

Monika glanced at him apologetically, her focus broken. "I'm sorry, Kenta. I was just thinking, that's all. . ." She gave him a wistful smile. "Sayori and Akihiro looked really happy together and I just . . . ah, it's a bit embarrassing to say."

"W-Wait, it's okay if you d-don't wanna say it," said Kenta with reassurance. "I mean, I'm not gonna, um, force you to s-say it if you're uncomfortable and all. . ."

She let out a small sigh, knowing that the only person stopping her from saying anything else was herself. _Enough with the excuses_. "Well . . . the thing is, we both tried," she said with a shy giggle.

"Huh? Tried what?"

Like what she always did whenever she wanted to completely gather her thoughts, she placed her hands on the table and took a deep breath. "I tried going out as well with my former admirers," she admitted earnestly. "I mean, it couldn't hurt to somehow get closer to them and see where circumstances would take us, right? But somehow, I never felt connected to them. It's not that they were bad guys or anything; it's just that they never seemed to form a solid connection with me. I know I might sound like I'm being too choosy or nitpicky just because they say I'm beautiful and all, or because they're not my type, but . . . um, you do understand, right, Kenta?"

For a moment, Kenta looked put out. Monika mused that it was because of what she said about going out with some of her admirers. "Uh, y-yeah, of course," he replied after a few silent seconds. "B-But I don't think you're being choosy or something like that. I mean, of course you'd wanna have a relationship where you f-feel really close to the other person, get to know them properly and . . . and stuff. That's a really important part in any relationship—and it's also something that I may have, um . . . failed to understand when I tried dating girls back then."

"Oh? What happened?" she asked.

Kenta sighed. "Well, back when I was in middle school trying to date girls, I did it by being . . . me, and that's me as in the loud and annoying blockhead that I still might be. I approached girls and tried to bond with them by just goofing around and showing off and stuff—I didn't try making friends and getting close because I thought I was basically good enough already. My friends told me that my approach was understandable because I was being all macho and stuff, but I realized later on that it wasn't exactly the best thing to do if I would go looking for a girlfriend. Now that I look back, it's pretty embarrassing, really."

"Ah, yes, that's understandable," she told him. "We all went through similar things when we were younger. There's nothing to be ashamed of. The good thing is that we grow out of those phases and start maturing into someone better, hmm?"

"Yeah, exactly," said Kenta. "It's just funny that when I started acting more mature and stuff, that's when I stopped, um, looking for a girlfriend. I mean, people like you may tell me that I've changed for the better sometimes, but there are just moments when I don't exactly believe it for myself, and that's . . . that's what may have stopped me from, you know, meeting girls and stuff."

He laughed nervously as he said this. She smiled at him, staring deep into his eyes. "That's alright, Kenta. I understand. Anyway, what I wanted to say about Sayori and Akihiro is that . . . I felt a bit jealous towards them."

"Um, jealous?"

"Oh, it's not that I wanna butt in on their relationship and all, of course," Monika quickly added. "I meant that their closeness, their years of friendship, I feel that those are already good foundations for their current relationship. I wish I had those kinds of foundations with someone, you know? Like, knowing someone really well and having established a good friendship with them already, so that if things ever go to the next level, it wouldn't be that difficult to . . . to take that next big step. It may sound a bit lame, but I sometimes find myself thinking, 'When am I going to experience something like that?'"

Kenta looked at her, evidently thinking of what to say. "W-Well, let's just say that . . . I know how you feel," he told her with a comforting tone. "But it's . . . it's never too late, y'know?"

"Yes," said Monika with a meaningful nod. "It's never too late."

As they carried on with eating, Monika knew that like what she realized before, it was indeed never too late to establish such foundations with someone, and that just because she had been caught up in the monotonous aspects of her life didn't mean she could never break away from them to do just that. As she mused on these thoughts, she kept staring at Kenta, who would often match her glance accidentally as they finished eating in relative silence. It was as if whenever she would balk on what she needed to say or think about, she always found her answers in his opal eyes.

It was a thought that made her blush. She giggled a little as she realized it.

Seeming to have noticed this, Kenta asked a bit confusedly, "What is it?"

Monika brushed away a lock of hair from her cheek, smiling. "Nothing," she lied.


	16. Chapter 16 - Daijoubu

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN – DAIJOUBU (SayoHiro)**

Was it all a dream? Was it just one of her innermost thoughts overriding her senses and distorting reality? Was it a trick that the universe was trying to pull on her? Sayori expected to wake up at any moment in her bed, surrounded by wayward pillows and blankets, welcoming the day after oversleeping for two hours. And yet, somehow, the warmth of Akihiro's hand as he guided her through the streets of downtown seemed more real than anything she had ever felt, and that made her ridiculously happy.

Was it official now? Was it final? Was it confirmed? No other words were spoken, and yet Sayori felt that so much had been relayed and expressed in so little time. She didn't even care that it happened in a convenience store of all places, just like she didn't care if people started staring at them as they hugged each other. It was as if her doubts were chased away all of a sudden, ushering forth emotions and sentiments that she had been keeping in the dark for so long. Her eyes had accordingly followed suit, releasing tears of pure joy.

Sayori was so caught up in the euphoria of what had transpired that she barely realized that she and Akihiro had arrived back at his place. The two of them had decided to forego trying out Monika's suggestion of going to the _Cocoa Connection _until later that day, as they were both rather dirty and sweaty from playing tag and wading out in the creek earlier. Moreover, Akihiro's hand injury and Sayori's tearfulness at everything that had just transpired caused them to reckon that a couple of hours of rest at most were needed.

Akihiro closed the door silently. "Just rest, alright?" he said earnestly. "I'll just look for something in the bathroom for this," he added, holding up his injured hand.

"Ah, I'll take c-care of that!" said Sayori. "_You _rest."

Hurrying past Akihiro before he could even do anything, she went inside the bathroom and quickly looked for whatever she would need in Akihiro's medicine cabinet. Luckily, there was a small box of sterilized gauze pads and a roll of medical tape ready for use. When she went out of the bathroom, Akihiro had followed her command and was sitting at the foot of his bed. His wound was still exposed, though it was no longer bleeding. Once more, Sayori cleansed it with isopropyl alcohol before drying it and wrapping it in a gauze pad. A couple of times, she fumbled with the medical tape, prompting Akihiro to help her with his free hand. As she held onto his hands while covering up the wound, Sayori could not help but smile.

When Akihiro's hand was finally wrapped up, Sayori straightened up and sat near him on the bed. "It's alright if we d-don't go out to eat l-later on," she remarked. "Taking me back by the creek . . . I think that you've already done a lot for me for today, Akihiro."

"Nonsense, Sayori," said Akihiro as he flexed his injured hand a little, getting used to the feel of the gauze pad. "I told you that we're going out to eat, alright? We just need to clean up a bit, and then we can go when you're ready. That is, if you want to go out with me," he added nervously.

"Of course I d-do, Akihiro!" Sayori gave him a reassuring grin. "I just want you to rest for today, o-okay? Besides, there's always next time!"

Privately, as excited as she was at the thought of going to a place like the _Cocoa Connection _with Akihiro, Sayori felt rather nervous. As Monika had remarked candidly earlier, the bistro was a favorite haunt for couples, and Sayori somehow felt embarrassed at the thought of Akihiro being seen by his friends or classmates with her at such a place while having a date—for what else could it be? Akihiro might end up being mortified too much once people begin assuming that she was his girlfriend. Monika already seemed to guess what was up between them earlier at the convenience store—what more when they run into other people?

"Well, if you say so. . ." Akihiro's voice seemed to sound a bit crestfallen as he replied. Sayori looked up at him quickly.

"It's okay with me, really!" she cried out. "I just . . . I'm just worried about . . ."

"About what?"

_Many things_. "I just don't want you to overspend or strain yourself b-because of me, Akihiro. It might be t-too much already," Sayori replied quietly.

"There you go again, dummy." Akihiro reached out and laid his hand softly on her shoulder. "I told you, my weekly allowance will come in tomorrow, so there's no need to worry too much about money, okay? And as for the time and effort I spend having fun with you, well, I do it because I want to be with you and not because it's my obligation as your best friend or your . . . y-your, um. . ."

Akihiro's words trailed off, though Sayori knew what he had tried saying. "Well, I know, but . . . won't it be embarrassing?" she asked.

Akihiro stared at her. "Why would I be embarrassed to go out with you of all people, Sayori? Are you . . . Are you still thinking about those things you told me yesterday?"

"Well, in a way, yes. . ." Sayori fidgeted with her hands.

Akihiro grasped both of her hands gently and looked directly in her eyes. "Sayori, if it takes me a lifetime to prove exactly how much fun I have when we go out together to eat or have fun, I'll be fine with that," he said softly. "I know it's pretty awkward, because . . . because we've never done anything like this . . . like a couple. I don't even know if we're already a c-couple now, and maybe I'm just afraid to ask. . . But all that matters right now for me is that you're happy, alright?"

She blushed. "I understand," she said with a smile. "And I really, really appreciate that, Akihiro. You d-don't know how happy I am right now. . ."

"Me, too, Sayori." Akihiro's hands held hers tighter. "Me, too."

* * *

Even though Sayori insisted that he should get some rest, Akihiro soon found himself playing a quiet session of _Dungeon Delvers _while Sayori napped peacefully on his bed. His injured hand found it rather difficult to press the keys on his keyboard as quickly as he normally did, but he didn't mind. Every few minutes, he'd glance at Sayori and smile whenever he saw how adorable she looked while sleeping.

He had done it. He had acquiesced to his feelings. During the later years of his close friendship with Sayori, Akihiro saw that he had unconsciously set aside the fact that he liked Sayori very much in favor of treating her as his innocent, bubbly and clumsy best friend. Their encounter at the convenience store earlier opened him up to the thoughts that he did like Sayori more than as a friend. Akihiro mused that perhaps it wasn't made obvious immediately because he had never experienced anything like liking a girl the way he liked Sayori, both as a friend and as someone more.

He glanced back at Sayori again. She was hugging one of his pillows tightly, her mouth slightly open as her chest rose and fell with each breath she made. The longer he stared, the less he could concentrate on _Dungeon Delvers_, so Akihiro decided to save, quit the game for now and clean himself up while she was sleeping. Quietly, he went inside the bathroom and readied himself to take a bath so as to wash off the dirt and sweat he had accumulated from playing tag with Sayori by the creek earlier. He carefully took off the gauze pad that Sayori had used to treat his hand with, intending to reuse it, and laid it on a dry surface. After looking once more at Sayori's napping figure, he closed the bathroom door with a smile.

In ten minutes, he was done. He dressed up in the bathroom—a black shirt and a pair of clean blue cargo shorts as he privately cursed his lack of better clothes for later—and peeked out into his room. Sayori was still sleeping, though this time her back was turned to him. Akihiro stole his way back towards his desk and sat there to cover his wound again. As he was doing so, he heard Sayori behind him, mumbling, "Akihiro. . ."

Akihiro stopped for a moment and looked at her. Sayori was still napping, but he could see that she was starting to toss and turn a bit in her sleep. She groaned again, "A-Akihiro . . . No, p-please . . . D-Don't go . . ."

He frowned thoughtfully. _Is she having a nightmare? _As he sat there musing, however, Sayori kept going. "N-No, Akihiro . . . Don't g-go . . . Sorry . . . Please, s-sorry. . ."

The rising tone of her voice started to worry Akihiro. He finished re-dressing his injury, got up from his chair and hurried next to her, kneeling by the bed. "Sayori?" he said softly. "H-Hey, wake up, dummy. You're having a nightmare. . ."

Sayori, however, didn't budge. "Akihiro!" she cried out. "Akihiro, p-please . . . !"

"Sayori," said Akihiro more firmly. He grasped her shoulder and shook her gently. "Sayori, wake up."

"N-No . . . ! Akihiro . . . ! I'm sorry! _Akihiro!_" The way Sayori screamed his name shook Akihiro to his core. Not wanting to witness more of this, he raised his voice and shook her more insistently.

"Sayori, _wake up!_"

Thankfully, Sayori's eyes snapped open. With a small scream, she scrambled upwards, kicking at the bedsheets as she scooted backwards against the bed's headboard. She wrapped her arms tightly around the pillow she had been embracing, breathing very quickly and looking around rather wildly, as if she had been running from something. It took Akihiro a few seconds before he could get her to look at him.

"Sayori, it's alright, it's me! I'm here!" He grasped her arms comfortingly. "I'm here! There's no need to worry!"

Sayori's breathing calmed down the longer she looked at him. He smiled encouragingly. "That's right, I'm here," he went on. "Everything's okay. Y-You were just having a bad dream, that's all."

Sayori's lip shook, and tears quickly formed at the corners of her blue eyes. In a flash, she dropped the pillow she was hugging and wrapped her arms around Akihiro instead. "Thank goodness," she exhaled, her voice breaking a little. "Thank goodness. . ."

Though he was rather taken aback at Sayori's hug, Akihiro didn't let her go. Instead, he embraced her in return. "It's alright, Sayori, everything's fine. Just a silly nightmare, that's all."

"It was h-horrible, Akihiro," Sayori whimpered into his shoulder. He felt his shirt grow a bit damp from her tears. "So horrible. . . I thought it was r-real. . ."

"It's not real, Sayori," Akihiro assured her. "See? I'm right here, dummy. I'm not going anywhere, don't worry. . ."

It took five more minutes before Sayori calmed down entirely. Akihiro never let her go from his embrace, even as his knees and legs began straining beneath him. He caressed her back and began soothing her with more words of reassurance and a few jokes here and there. When she stopped crying at last, she broke free from Akihiro's embrace and began wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

"That's it, deep breaths," said Akihiro as he sat next to her on the bed. "Don't worry too much about it, alright? Besides, we still have that _Cocoa Connection _place to try out later. If you wanna clean up and get ready, I can wait for you right here. Won't matter what time we go there, as long as we go, okay? Besides, it wouldn't be the same eating cake without your commentary around!"

"You're b-being silly again, you know?" said Sayori. "And I t-thought we were supposed to go some other time. . ."

"Sayori, you say 'let's go some other time,' but your eyes are telling me 'I wonder what kind of cake and pastries they serve there,'" said Akihiro hearteningly.

"Meanie, meanie, _meanie_!" Sayori cried out as she pinched his arm petulantly. "And s-so what if I want to? We can always g-go there next time, right?"

"Well, after that bad dream you had, the first thing I want to do right now is to make you happy, okay?" said Akihiro. "Anyway, I said earlier that we're going out to eat, and I don't want to go back on that, not after everything that happened today."

Sayori bit her lip. She blinked quickly a few times as tears started forming on her eyes again. "Ah, d-don't cry!" said Akihiro. "Don't start crying again, p-please!"

"I know, I'm s-sorry," said Sayori with a tearful laugh. "You're r-really sweet, Akihiro, and it's just making me tear up even more. This is why . . . w-why I. . ."

But instead of finishing her words, Sayori closed her eyes tightly and pulled Akihiro back into another tight embrace. Akihiro grinned as he hugged her back, knowing that at that moment, words were already unnecessary.

* * *

It was half past three when Sayori went inside Akihiro's bathroom to take a bath and clean herself up, carrying her bag of clothes and things with her so that she'd dress up in the bathroom immediately after bathing like Akihiro did. In the meantime, Akihiro booted _Dungeon Delvers _back up and continued playing in relative silence. As he hacked and slashed his way through one of the game's many dungeons, waiting for his Barbarian character to finally level up, he could hear Sayori happily humming from inside the bathroom, and he'd hear her laugh out loud whenever he would swear loudly because of the game.

Sayori took five minutes longer than he did. Akihiro didn't look behind him as he heard the bathroom door open even as he knew that Sayori would be already dressed, thinking to give Sayori a bit more privacy and wait for her to finish completely. When Sayori finally spoke up, however, she sounded rather nervous.

"Um . . . Akihiro?"

Putting the game on pause, Akihiro turned around. "Okay, so you're done dress—"

The words caught in Akihiro's throat as he saw what Sayori was wearing now: a beautiful short-sleeved grey dress and a pair of black stockings that had the appearance of leggings. She had her bag slung around her left forearm, while her left arm was holding a long brown wool coat. This combination of clothing caught Akihiro off guard; never before had he seen Sayori wearing anything other than the most casual types of clothes that she usually wore and her school uniform. It lent her innocent beauty a more developed aura, something that made Akihiro's heart beat faster.

Sayori blushed and smiled at the same time. "Well, what d-do you think?"

Akihiro closed his half-open mouth and swallowed nervously. "Um. . . I . . . Er . . ." _You look perfect_.

"My mom bought them as a gift for me last year," Sayori continued, looking down at her clothes with awe like she was wearing a circus tent. "She always told m-me that I needed to start wearing better clothes. I n-never got around to trying them out f-for real until t-today. . ."

"Ah, I see. They're . . . Um. . ." _Just say that she looks perfect, you idiot_.

After a few more seconds of Akihiro being unable to reply coherently, Sayori looked sadly at him. "They . . . They don't suit me v-very well, right? Well, I guess y-you're right. . . Maybe I'll just change into something simpler or—"

"_You look perfect, just like you always do, Sayori!_"

As if out of instinct, Akihiro blurted out the words. A ringing silence fell upon them afterwards. Akihiro could only manage to stare into Sayori's eyes from where he was sitting, his face slowly burning up. Sayori stood motionless as well, her mouth slightly open in shock as color flooded her face.

"I mean, er . . . Y-You . . ." Akihiro stammered. For a moment, he wondered whether or not to keep going. If he rescinded his words, Sayori might feel bad about her efforts to get dressed like that. If he stuck with his statement, on the other hand, it might make things awkward. _But it's true. She looks perfect, so why should I lie?_

He gave her a smile. "I mean t-that, Sayori. You look p-perfect."

After a few more moments of stunned silence, Sayori fidgeted nervously. "You're just humoring me, A-Akihiro."

"I'm not, Sayori!" Akihiro quickly moved towards her and held her hands. Sayori's eyes blinked in surprise. "I know it sounds awkward, but you do look awesome right now. I'm just n-not used to seeing you wear clothes like this b-because we're always in our school uniforms or some ordinary clothes w-whenever we see each other, right?"

Sayori nodded. "I just didn't w-want you to think that I was . . . w-was . . ."

"Think that you're what?" asked Akihiro.

She bit her lip a little, hesitating to reply. "Trying t-too hard to look good f-for you," she finally stammered. "I mean, g-girlfriends are supposed to look good for t-their boyfriends, right?"

The admission startled Akihiro a little. Sayori looked away, shifting her feet a bit nervously as he kept looking straight at her. He spoke gently. "Sayori, no matter what you wear, you still look good to me, okay? I appreciate that you tried this hard to look good for our little trip downtown, but you don't have to do anything that you're not comfortable with. I wouldn't even care if we went downtown with you wearing your school uniform!"

Sayori kept staring at him nervously. "You r-really think so?"

"Sure!" said Akihiro. "Even if you're wearing your blazer that's already two sizes too small and has those little toothpaste stains on the collar," he added jokingly.

Sayori's eyes widened at his words. She pulled her hands free from Akihiro's, pouting as she turned her back to him. "You big m-meanie!" she cried out grumpily, stamping her foot.

Laughing, Akihiro quickly moved in front of her and gave her an apologetic hug even as she tried wriggling free. "I'm so sorry, Sayori, I couldn't resist!" he told her. "You're really cute when you're angry."

Sayori stopped struggling after a few more moments. "Still a meanie. . ." he heard her mumble even as she wrapped her arms around him in return.

* * *

The _Cocoa Connection _looked amazing when Sayori and Akihiro arrived in front of it around twenty minutes later. Its exterior consisted of varnished oak and grey brick walls, adorned with dark green awning and a neat array of planters on the front bearing flowered shrubs. The windows were tinted a light gray, and the entrance consisted of two wooden doors with brass doorknobs. Overall, the bistro gave off a very posh appearance that was vastly different from that of the cafés and diners the two of them have visited thus far.

The interior was no different; the floor was a combination of gleaming black marble and green carpets, while the walls were made of the same glossed timber that they saw outside, on which various decorations such as portraits and landscape paintings were displayed. Here and there, a number of stands and decorative tables were laden with little baubles such as statuettes and busts of historical figures, while shelves laden with a number of hardbound and paperback books stood at varying points of the bistro's main room. Lights came in the form of electric bulbs sitting in brass sconces on the walls, adding to the chic ambience. On one end of the bistro's main room was the staircase leading to the second floor; next to it was the main counter where orders were made and taken.

But what struck the two of them the most were the seats; instead of separate chairs flanking a table, there were cozy leather loveseats designed to have two people sit comfortably next to each other. Indeed, most of the two-seaters in the bistro's main room were already occupied by couples of varying ages, from high school students like them to working adults. They chatted happily as they ate cakes and drank coffee, and some of them had their arms wrapped around each other in a snug embrace as they did so.

Akihiro glanced sideways at Sayori, who was gazing around with an awestruck look on her face. He smiled at her wonder, though he also admittedly felt nervous about the thought of sitting so closely with her for the duration of their stay here. Still, he decided to press on and make sure that Sayori would feel comfortable with him, both as best friends and as an unofficial couple. When the two of them had picked out a good place to sit, they made their way to the counter to order.

"So many cakes and pastries!" Sayori exclaimed as she glanced up at the bistro's blackboard menu above the counter, with the items and prices written out in colorful chalk.

"And you wanted us to go here another time," Akihiro whispered facetiously into her ear. She pouted as she elbowed his side.

The clerk at the counter spoke up politely then. "Pardon me, ma'am, sir, but we have a special order that you can try: two slices of strawberry shortcake and two white chocolate lattes for a reduced price. It's a limited offer, and perfect for couples!"

"Ah, w-wait," Sayori said, blushing. "We're—"

"We'll try it," Akihiro interrupted cheerfully. "My girlfriend here _loves _strawberry shortcake."

As the clerk smiled back and punched in their order, Sayori looked at him, her cheeks suffused with color. "G-Girlfriend?" she stammered shyly.

Akihiro only smiled as he put his arm around her.

The two of them ate in relative silence for the first few minutes. Sayori kept glancing around the _Cocoa Connection_'s interior, taking in everything with awe and occasionally punctuating the silence with remarks of how divine the strawberry shortcake tasted. Meanwhile, Akihiro had eyes only for her. He was still nervous about everything, especially with Sayori sitting so closely next to him, but this was slowly being drowned out by the happiness he felt at seeing her looking so cheerful in her bubbly, childlike way. Akihiro decided to lighten up the mood further by cracking a few jokes, particularly at how Sayori would often forget to chew as she stared at a painting or a decoration displayed on the bistro's walls. Sayori would respond huffily by pouting and turning her back to him, opening Akihiro up to the opportunity of hugging her once more as he apologized. As time passed, he sensed that perhaps the worries they had of appearing like a couple to all the people inside the bistro were misplaced; after all, what they were doing right now seemed no different from their past trips, such as at the _Drive Brew _and the _Starlight_, with the only differences being that he would hug her or hold her hand more frequently.

They stayed at the _Cocoa Connection _for almost an hour, particularly because Sayori shyly admitted that she wanted another order of strawberry shortcake. Akihiro was more than happy to oblige her, and he decided to make her feel comfortable about it by ordering a cake slice of his own. Though Sayori was quick to remind him worriedly about spending too much on her behalf, he assured her that he had enough money to get them by until his allowance arrived the following day.

When they left the _Cocoa Connection _and began walking towards the rest of downtown, Sayori looked at him. "Are we gonna go home now?" she asked timidly.

"Well, do _you _want to go home?" he asked.

Sayori fidgeted nervously with her fingers. "But we s-still have dinner to take care of, right?"

"There she is," said Akihiro, snickering. "Sayori, the girl who asks about dinner even after she's just finished eating two slices of strawberry shortcake and a latte."

"I'm only asking, okay?!" Sayori cried out resentfully. "No need to be a big m-meanie about it!"

"I know, I know." Akihiro patted her head gently. "We're gonna be cooking back at my place, alright? But for now, I want us to enjoy downtown a bit more before we go home."

"B-But . . . you've already done enough, Akihiro!" she remarked. "This might be t-too much for you!"

"Not really," he replied. "After all that happened earlier, and after that nightmare you had, I want this Saturday to be a really fun one for us—for _you_, Sayori."

With that, Akihiro slipped his arm around her again and pulled her into a comforting, protective embrace. He grinned at her, feeling happier the longer he stared into her blue eyes. Though Sayori smiled back, there was a wistful air to her expression—Akihiro sensed that she might be having more of the doubtful thoughts that were plaguing her mind ever since they ate at the _Starlight_. This made him want to do even more for her to be happy.

The resulting evening helped him prove just that.

Much like the impromptu trip they had yesterday after eating at the _Starlight_, Akihiro took Sayori on another jaunt downtown. They started off at the mall, which was crowded with many people going shopping for the weekend. Though Akihiro knew that Sayori wasn't the type of girl who liked to shop for clothes, he let her dictate where the two of them would be going. After a few minutes of initial uncertainty and shyness, Sayori soon found her groove by going to the places she liked: the mall's pet store and—as Akihiro half-expected—the food court. At the pet store, he watched with growing contentment as Sayori fawned over the numerous animals that other shoppers were perusing: cute puppies playfully trying to bunch over each other in their boxes, chubby cats gazing at people with lazy looks as they lay atop their beds, and birds singing merry melodies from behind their cages. As Sayori petted, cuddled and waved at the animals, Akihiro could not help but smile at how adorable she looked.

The food court was another bit of amusement as Akihiro wondered aloud why Sayori would bring him there of all places. With a determined flourish, Sayori told him that she simply wanted to look at the food stands there—something that Akihiro gleefully knew was a little lie on her part in an effort to not get teased by him.

"Oh, really?" he said in a playfully casual tone. "Then I guess you won't mind me getting an ice cream cone over there while you look at the food stands, eh? Hmm . . . I wonder if they have . . . strawberry. You like strawberry ice cream, right, Sayori?"

The change in Sayori's eyes was almost instantaneous. "S-Strawberry ice cream?"

"Yeah!" he said. "Sure could use one right now. Sweet, tasty strawberry ice cream. . . Such a shame, though. Eating ice cream all alone. . ."

He held in his laughs with an effort as Sayori fidgeted shyly. "Well, strawberry ice cream d-does sound good. . ." she murmured with an apologetic smile.

"Oh, but I thought you only wanted to go here to take a look at the food stands?" asked Akihiro lightheartedly.

"No, I want ice cream!" Sayori blurted out involuntarily. A moment later, she cupped her hand over her mouth and blushed. "I . . . I mean . . . Um. . ."

"And the truth comes out!" said Akihiro triumphantly, laughing. "What am I gonna do with you, Sayori?"

That earned him another one of her cute pouts and a pinch on the side to boot. "For starters, you can stop teasing me like t-that, meanie!" she cried out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Akihiro said quickly, patting her head. "C'mon, I'll make it up to you. Let's go get that ice cream."

After ordering a strawberry ice cream cone apiece—with Sayori's having two scoops instead of one as a peace offering of sorts—the two of them began debating on what to cook for dinner later that night. Sayori now sounded a bit more confident about the thought of cooking after the feat they had managed earlier that day, though she also voiced her concern about not having any new recipes to try out. Akihiro found himself agreeing to her thoughts, noting that they did need to browse online for a simple but good recipe to cook before they could buy any ingredients. In the end, the two of them settled at ordering some takeout instead from one of the many ramen and donburi stands in the mall's food court.

With that, the two of them began making their way back to Akihiro's apartment, happily clutching the plastic bags where their takeout orders were, looking around at the mall's sights once again as they made their way outside. As they passed by a certain clothing store, the two of them ran into Monika and a tall, fiery-haired boy whom Akihiro recognized as a schoolmate of theirs.

"Hello again, you two!" said Monika cheerfully. "So, did you try out the _Cocoa Connection _like I suggested?"

"Yes!" replied Sayori. "It was really incredible, Monika. You sure know how to pick good places to go to around here!"

"I agree," said Akihiro. "Sayori here was really over the moon about their strawberry shortcakes." Sayori pinched him on the side once again, and he laughed along with Monika.

"Oh, where are my manners?" said Monika suddenly. She turned to her companion and put her hand on his arm in a friendly gesture. "This is Kenta Yamaguchi. I don't know if you guys were ever classmates with him, but he's that friend from 3-C that I was talking about earlier!"

Kenta, who was clad in a grey hoodie with matching black pants and sneakers, looked less boisterous and more laid-back than he usually appeared during school days—Akihiro knew this based from the fact that Kenta was often seen in the corridors, loudly joking and swaggering with his friends during lunchtimes at school. He sensed that this change in his behavior came because he was with Monika, and also because she had her hand on his arm.

"Pleasedtameetcha," said Kenta with a casual grin. Sayori and Akihiro smiled and greeted him back.

"So, where are you two going?" asked Monika.

"Well, we're going home now," replied Sayori. "Akihiro took me here to the mall to lounge around for a bit. How about you guys?"

"We'll stay here for a bit, I think," said Monika, checking her watch. "Kenta and I might eat dinner here instead of outside. Are you okay with that, Kenta?" she added, turning her beautiful gaze towards him.

"F-Fine by me!" said Kenta with a slight blush.

"Great!" She turned back towards Akihiro and Sayori. "Anyway, we'll be going now. Take care, you two! See you at school!"

With that, the four of them went their separate ways; Monika and Kenta to a good place to eat, Sayori and Akihiro towards the mall's exit. As they continued walking, however, Akihiro and Sayori heard Monika call out to them one more time.

"Hey, Sayori! Akihiro!"

Rather puzzled, the two of them looked back. "Yes, Monika?" asked Sayori.

Monika beamed. "I just have to say it: you two look really good together," she said with a wink. Beside her, Kenta grinned a little.

Akihiro found himself blushing at Monika's words, but not to the same level that Sayori was—when he looked at her, he saw that her face had turned scarlet in seconds. Akihiro spared Monika a sheepish grin, but before he could even say anything in return, Sayori grabbed his arm and led him away, huffing and puffing nervously as she did so. Akihiro looked back to see Monika giggling a little as she continued walking with Kenta.

Sayori's mortified silence continued as they exited the mall and walked outside. The chill of the evening was drawing on, and more people were out and about. "Are you okay?" asked Akihiro as she kept half-dragging him along the sidewalk. She slowed down her pace and looked at Akihiro, the redness still prevalent on her cheeks. For a moment, Akihiro marveled again at how positively adorable she looked in her embarrassment.

Sayori smiled beautifully at him, shifting her grip from his arm down to his hand. "Never better," she replied.


	17. Chapter 17 - Promises

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – PROMISES (SayoHiro)**

The city glowed, its tall buildings shining with lights that glowed in the evening's darkness. More people filled the sidewalks, the joy and excitement in their voices for a good night out ringing in the air. Vehicles meandered past on the streets, their glossy frames and tinted windows gleaming as the night lights shone on them. At certain buildings, loud music played, adding more to the cacophonic symphony that was so characteristic of city and night life, and the neon glow of signs and billboards bearing the names of establishments and advertisements bathed everything in a more vivid hue of color.

All in all, Sayori shared with the city its aura of blissful liveliness. Even with Monika's teasing earlier, she couldn't stop feeling at peace with everything right now, not with Akihiro's arm in hers. As the two of them walked back to his apartment, Sayori wished that their downtown excursion would go on just a bit longer, but she relented when she remembered that she still had the rest of the night to spend with her childhood friend.

Along the way, Akihiro looked at her again, a mixture of concern and mirth on his face. "Are you really okay, or are you still embarrassed about what Monika said?" he asked her.

Sayori shook her head. "I'm fine. I just didn't expect her to say that out loud, and in front of you, too!"

Akihiro sniggered. "Do you think that she'll start telling your other classmates about it? About . . . us?"

"No. Monika is not like that," replied Sayori, "so you don't have to worry about other people finding out about us!"

Akihiro smiled, patting her arm with his free hand. "Sayori, I won't have a problem even if the whole world finds out about us. Well, except for our parents, maybe," he added jokingly.

"They don't have to find out r-right now, though!" Sayori suggested, giggling nervously.

"Yeah, let's just leave that for the future," said Akihiro, laughing along with her.

_The future_. What will the future hold now? Sayori was ready to admit that she had very little knowledge or experience when it came to being a girlfriend, and she knew that Akihiro was also thinking along the same wavelength about being a boyfriend. Then again, she mused that a lot of couples in the world started out being new to all this, and were out there right now still trying to figure out the hullaballoo of being in a relationship. Sayori wanted nothing more than to become the best girlfriend for Akihiro, and to do that, she sensed that she should just learn along the way how to do so. That, or ask her girl classmates who have boyfriends for pointers and tips.

Almost twenty minutes later, they were back at the apartment. Akihiro set down the ramen and donburi takeout they had bought at the small dining table he had. Sayori, on the other hand, jumped onto his bed, wishing to rest herself a bit after the long walk they had.

"You'd better not mess up my bedsheets over there, Sayori," said Akihiro as he took out a couple of small plates and a pair of forks from the nearby kitchen drawers.

"Don't worry," she told him cheerily, "I'll arrange them if I do."

"Oh, really? Around ninety-nine percent of the time, I think it's the other way around—you mess up, I clean up after you," he called to her teasingly.

Sayori sat up on the bed and pouted at him. "This time's different, okay? I'll prove it to you, meanie!"

Akihiro laughed. "You know you don't have to. Anyway, come on over and eat. Everything's ready."

The gyudon and ramen that they bought tasted good enough, but Sayori preferred making their own donburi all over again just like they did earlier that day. "What are we gonna be doing tomorrow?" asked Akihiro as he sipped some ramen broth.

Sayori frowned. "Tomorrow?"

"Well, yeah," said Akihiro with a smile, "unless you wanna go back to your place already instead of spending another day here."

"Of course I w-wanna stay here," said Sayori, blushing, "b-but about tomorrow . . . we don't have to go anywhere, right? I mean, we can just stay inside all day instead."

"Are you sure?" asked Akihiro. "Or are you just worried that I won't make it until my parents give me my weekly allowance?

Sayori fidgeted with her fork. "You got me there," she said. "But the thing is . . . um, well, do _you _know a place where we could go to even if you do have money?"

"Of course!" said Akihiro proudly. "There are a lot of places we can go to in order to have fun, like, um . . . like the, er . . . hmm . . ."

Sayori took her chance as Akihiro began thinking deeply. "Aha! See, you don't know where we can go, so that means we should just stay here for tomorrow!"

"Alright, alright," Akihiro conceded, "if it makes you happy. I just don't want you to get bored being cooped up in here all day, okay?"

Sayori reached out and held his hand, caressing it. "I won't be bored if I'm with you, Akihiro, you know that! And besides, y-you don't have to spend too much of your allowance on me. You need that to get you through the week. Besides, I have some money of my own, so I can take care of myself!"

Akihiro grinned at her. "Okay, fine, you win." He caressed her hand back, his fingers gently intertwining with hers.

* * *

After they had finished eating dinner, Sayori insisted on washing the plates and utensils that they had used, no matter how few they were. To her delight, Akihiro decided not to argue and acquiesced to her request instead, though he helped her clean up by throwing out the containers of their takeout in the apartment's garbage chute. When he got back, he turned on his computer to start playing _Dungeon Delvers _once again while Sayori finished scrubbing everything clean, from the plates to the dining table, careful not to get her clothes wet. When she was done, she went over to the bed, sat down and took off the black shoes she had worn for their night out. As she sat there massaging the soles of her feet, she glanced over at Akihiro, who was now completely engrossed in playing his game.

Sayori had seen Akihiro play _Dungeon Delvers _a few times before, and while she couldn't understand how most of it went, Akihiro was always willing to tell her a bit about the game's mechanics. Though she had grown up playing only casual games that didn't require anything too complex or skillful like sandbox games and simulators, Sayori found the game rather interesting, as it was set in a fantasy world filled with monsters and magic that reminded her of some of the movies that she had watched and loved.

In silence, she moved over to the edge of the bed closest to Akihiro and sat there, watching his Barbarian character hack and slash his way through scores of enemies with a large battle axe. The sounds of Akihiro's fingers tapping on his keyboard and clicking on his mouse accompanied the music and sound effects that the game was delivering through his computer's speakers. Occasionally, Akihiro would chuckle or grunt or even yell as he played, particularly when he managed to kill a troublesome foe. Beside him, Sayori grinned as she saw how much fun he was having.

It took around five minutes before Akihiro even noticed that she was watching. "Oh, hey there," he said, glancing at her as the Barbarian on the screen eradicated some skeletons en route to the current chapter's final boss. "Enjoying the show?"

"It's always nice watching you play," said Sayori. "You're really good at that game."

Akihiro shrugged. "Well, that's what a slacking gamer like me does for a living, basically, so I've gotten really good at it."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that, okay?" she told him concernedly. "You can play all you want. I just don't want you skipping class or forgetting about your homework just so you can play."

"I know, don't worry," he said. "You really are taking the whole responsibility thing seriously now, aren't you?"

Sayori huffed. "So w-what if I am? Besides, _we _are gonna be more responsible in a lot of things from now on. You keep teasing me about calling you a future NEET candidate, but I don't think I can joke about y-you actually becoming a NEET!"

"Okay, okay," said Akihiro casually, looking around at her with a grin. "Jeez, Sayori, just because I mess around most of the time doesn't mean I don't take you seriously, okay?"

She pouted at him. "I know that. . ."

As Akihiro continued playing _Dungeon Delvers_, he and Sayori talked about virtually anything they could think of to pass the time. To encourage him and show him that she wasn't bored in the slightest, she would ask questions about a certain enemy or character, and even occasionally cheer for Akihiro like he was competing in an interschool sports competition, much to Akihiro's surprise and slight embarrassment. When they ran out of things to talk about for _Dungeon Delvers_, the two of them shifted gears; one of the topics they discussed at length was the idea of Monika seeing someone—in particular, the red-haired boy named Kenta that they had met at the mall. For a while, Sayori debated with Akihiro on whether or not Kenta was Monika's boyfriend or simply a friend.

"I don't think Monika's the type of girl who'd hide the fact that she has a boyfriend," Sayori remarked. "Besides, even if she keeps quiet about it, the others would find out soon enough. She has celebrity status in our year, so there's no way her having a boyfriend will go unnoticed!"

"But have you seen her go out with a guy before?" Akihiro offered. "Even at school, she tends to be around guys only for school stuff, I think. Besides, didn't she tell us at the convenience store that the guy's a 'good friend?' or something?"

"Just because she said that doesn't mean he's _just_ a friend, though," said Sayori a bit slyly. "Sometimes, when girls say that, it's quite the opposite—the guy's often an admirer or secret boyfriend!"

Akihiro stared at her. "Uh, where exactly did you get knowledge about that kind of stuff?"

Sayori fidgeted, giggling a bit nervously. "I just hear my girl classmates talk about things like that, so I take their word for it sometimes. Besides, even if Monika's always busy with school stuff, it doesn't mean she can't have fun with someone like . . . Kenta, was that his name? Ooh, what do you think they did at the mall together?"

"Hmm. . . Monika said that she'd just be meeting him, right?" said Akihiro. "But then again, it could be a date. Maybe they went to the movies or something. And she said they were gonna be eating out, right?"

"Sure looks like it. Ooohhh, that's so exciting and romantic!" Sayori squealed. "If you ask me, Monika needs something like that. I've talked to her a few times before, and there were some days when it looked like she was stressed out from school and running her club—the debate club, I think. I told her before that she needs to wind down and have some fun with someone, so I'm glad she found the chance to do something like this. She looked so happy about it, too."

Soon, Akihiro had managed to advance into the third act of _Dungeon Delvers_ as he defeated the second act's final boss. Though Sayori anticipated that he would continue playing, he decided to call it a day and watch random videos online instead. Though shy at first about suggesting what to watch, Sayori was soon given complete control over the computer as Akihiro offered up his seat and sat on the bed instead. In no time at all, the two of them spent the next hour watching and laughing at most of the funny videos that she liked visiting from time to time on the internet, from cute cat fail videos to clips from gag shows. Akihiro's apartment unit was soon filled with laughs, jokes, and other expressions of enjoyment and merriment.

When things simmered down a little, a thought flashed in Sayori's mind. Before she said it out loud, though, she cast glances at Akihiro, as if wishing to test the waters before she said anything.

Akihiro caught up on her stares and looked back at her. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking . . . about tomorrow . . ."

"What about tomorrow?"

She sighed. "No, you might just make f-fun of me again."

Akihiro shrugged. "Can't do that if I don't know what you're going to say, Sayori."

"So you _will _make fun of me when I say it," said Sayori with a pout.

"I'll do my best not to," said Akihiro, chuckling.

Sayori glared at him, waiting until his laughs subsided. When he looked serious enough, she murmured her answer very quietly, as if she was giving an unsure answer to a pop quiz in front of her classmates.

". . . Breakfast. . ."

Akihiro looked at her for a full ten seconds, his expression blank, his body unmoving from where he was sitting. Such an expression, however, did not convince Sayori, and she was right to believe so; the moment she saw the corners of his lips curve into a smirk, she slapped his shoulder hard.

"S-See! I knew you'd laugh and make fun of me!" she cried out petulantly.

"I didn't even say anything yet!" said Akihiro, bursting into laughter.

Unimpressed, Sayori turned away from him. "Y-You know what? Forget it! I'm not saying anything anymore, meanie!"

Still laughing, Akihiro moved closer to her, trying to pat her on the shoulder and offer words of apology. Sayori, however, shifted and scooted every time he tried to get her to face him. Eventually, however, it was all for naught as Akihiro managed to kneel down in front of her and hold both of her hands. Now, she found herself unable to twist or turn away as she felt Akihiro's thumbs caressing the back of her hands softly.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he said comfortingly. Though he was still chortling, his voice was slowly taking on a gently serious tone to show that he was sincere this time. "I can't help it, Sayori. You're just wonderfully funny sometimes, especially where eating is concerned."

"It's n-not just about eating breakfast, okay?" said Sayori sullenly. "I just want . . ."

"You just want what?"

Sayori looked at straight into his pale green eyes, her face slowly burning up as she felt herself turn red. "I want to c-cook breakfast with you tomorrow morning. Just like how we made lunch together earlier. It was really fun, and I feel like I'll learn even more with you around. B-Besides, I don't want to eat if y-you're the only one who's gonna do all the work, like what you did at my p-place this morning. And your hand might be hurting still, so it's better if you have some help right? So . . . yeah, I want to cook w-with you again."

She smiled as a mixture of shyness and excitement coursed through her. In her ears, her request sounded so awkward, so weird and trivial, and yet it was true. There was something about preparing the ingredients and cooking them with her own two hands that gave the experience a very fulfilling vibe, even more so than actually eating the prepared dishes. Moreover, the experience was nothing short of special, similar to how joy and bliss propelled her feet and heart forward when the two of them relived their childhoods by the creek earlier that day. Privately, she imagined learning more of the basics of cooking on her own through cookbooks and the internet so that, in the future, she could even start cooking meals for Akihiro.

To her credit, she wasn't the only one blushing now; Akihiro's cheeks turned pink at her words. "You say that like I'm a cooking master or something, Sayori," he said sheepishly. "And besides, cooking alone for you is okay with me. My hand's doing better anyway."

"No, you don't have to do it alone, okay?" said Sayori insistently. "And in the future, I wanna be able to surprise you just like how you surprised me this morning. It's . . . it's the least I can do for everything you've done for me, Akihiro."

Akihiro shook his head. "You know you don't have to repay me or anything, Sayori."

Sayori smiled. "Is it weird to want to do that for my . . . m-my boyfriend?"

She giggled out loud as Akihiro turned red. To diffuse whatever awkwardness her straightforward statement might have brought, she wrapped her arms around Akihiro, cuddling him both happily and shyly. It did not take long before Akihiro did the same as she felt his firm arms gently embrace her. It was an incredible feeling, almost as if Sayori could feel her very soul being at peace with the world.

* * *

At around eleven o'clock, Akihiro decided that it was time to address the elephant in the room that he had been ignoring, and which Sayori was unmindful of—the idea of where she would sleep. He felt his discomfiture double as he stared at his bed, the notion of it being enough for two people offering little comfort to his thoughts of sleeping next to Sayori. The only time that they had slept so close together was when they had sleepovers as children in their respective houses, before their parents left Kanto and sought out greener pastures in other prefectures for their education and future. Even then, the two of them had separate beds to sleep in, and in the very few times that they slept side by side, childhood innocence made everything normal. Now that the two of them were both eighteen, however, it was an entirely new dilemma.

As Sayori went inside the bathroom to dress and brush her teeth, Akihiro went towards the small dresser where he kept his clothes and other things. He took off the clothes he had worn for their downtown trip and replaced them with a simple white shirt and a pair of black shorts. Once he had finished dressing, he took a look at dresser's bottom drawer, looking for the thick bedsheets he often used to ward off the chill during colder months. Akihiro saw that he had around three of them, and that if he spread them out on top of each other, they could double as a small mattress he could use on the floor. As for pillows to rest his head on, he could do with one from his own bed and leave the others to Sayori.

He had already prepared everything and was about to lie down when the bathroom door opened. Out came Sayori, now looking youthfully cute again in a pair of pink pajamas. She stopped when she saw Akihiro sitting atop the bedsheets he had arranged, her arms clutching the clothes she had worn for downtown earlier.

"What are you doing down there?" she asked.

Akihiro sighed, anticipating everything that was about to come. He jabbed his thumb towards his bed. "You sleep on my bed. I'll be fine sleeping here on the floor."

Sayori's eyes widened with shock. "Eh?! B-But why?!" she exclaimed, hugging her clothes tighter.

Akihiro felt himself blush. "W-Well, we can't sleep next to each other on the bed, right? I mean, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable sleeping too close to me."

As if in answer, Sayori's face flushed as well. She threw her clothes towards the corner where her bag was lying and moved towards him. "I-I've never thought of that, but . . . but I can't let you sleep on the floor! This is your room, and I'm just a visitor!"

"What the heck? You're not just a visitor here, Sayori!"

"I know that, b-but still . . . !"

Akihiro swallowed nervously. "Well, one of us needs to sleep somewhere else, and of course, I'm not gonna ask you to sleep on the floor, so I—"

"N-No!" Sayori squealed, stamping her foot. "I won't allow it! We sleep on the bed together, or I'll . . . I'll sit on a chair and stay up for the entire night! T-There's no way I'm letting you sleep on the floor in your own room!"

Akihiro let out a hopeless sigh, burying his face in his hands and wishing that things were as simple as they had been when he and Sayori were just two childhood friends fighting for the most comfortable spot on a bed. On a different day, he'd be able to convince Sayori to let him do what he wanted, but he could tell just how resolute she was with her current stand, and that there would be no convincing her.

He decided to make the only choice he knew he had. "A-Alright, fine. We'll share the bed. No more arguing," he said in a resigned tone.

Sayori frowned with concern. "I'm sorry, Akihiro, b-but I don't want you sleeping on the floor, and it's not j-just about this being your place. You might not be able to sleep properly there, and y-you might even wake up with body pains or something! Y-You might get a stiff neck or back, right? The bed's good enough for us both, so I don't know w-why you're insisting on putting yourself through all that trouble!"

Akihiro looked up at her. Sayori looked so anxious and yet so determined, and all for a good reason; his comfort and wellbeing were still her top priorities. Even before, when she admitted wanting to cook with him again, she offered his hand injury as a reason why he needed help with cooking. The thought made him smile warmly at her. _As always, you're looking out for me, Sayori._

"Okay, you win this round. I won't sleep on the floor if you don't want me to," he conceded.

Sayori let out a sigh of relief. "Good."

After he had returned the blankets that served as his erstwhile mattress back inside the dresser, the two of them prepped the bed. Sayori took the right side while Akihiro chose the left. Sayori didn't budge even when it came to the pillows, insisting that they divide the four pillows equally between the two of them. Considering how trivial his idea of sleeping on the floor felt now, Akihiro gave Sayori what she wanted. After all, how could he say no to her when she looked this determined in making sure she wasn't the only one who would be sleeping well for tonight?

* * *

Akihiro didn't know how long he had been asleep. Time always seemed to pass by in a flash whenever he managed to drift off into dreamland. He had gone to sleep with his back facing Sayori, not wanting to draw too close to her and wake her up in the long run with his movements. The two of them were prone to tossing and twisting around while sleeping, and there was no better proof of this than when they were children—wayward arms and a sleepy game of tug-of-war with a blanket had resulted in one or both of them waking up in the middle of the night during their childhood sleepovers.

As Akihiro slept, he dreamed. In his mind's eye, he was looking up at the sun, basking in its light even if he was almost blinded by it. He blinked and saw, as his dream eyesight adjusted, that he was back by the spot near the creek, sitting atop the stone bench where Sayori had tended to him after he fell from a tree he had been trying to climb. The only difference with everything was that Sayori was nowhere to be found. Wanting to see her, he stood up and walked out onto the street, where people passed by in a blur. He turned around, looking down the streets for her and seeing only passersby that he could only vaguely perceive.

After what seemed like a few minutes—or an eternity, it was hard to tell in dreams—he saw Sayori standing some ways down the sidewalk, looking directly at him. She was in her school uniform, smiling in spite of the tears trickling down her cheeks. Instinctively, Akihiro walked towards her, seized by a desire to embrace her, to comfort her, spurred onwards by the tears she was shedding. Was she hurt? Was she sad?

When he was standing now in front of her, he quickly embraced her, wrapping his arms around her and basking in her warmth and fragrance. In response, Sayori hugged him back, buried her face in his shoulder, and wept there as the people around them continued to pass them by. Akihiro didn't know what to feel. Should he be happy that the two of them were together like this? Should he be worried that Sayori was crying for some reason? Whatever it was, he felt that the hug he was now giving Sayori was the only answer he needed, and he tightened his hold around her, not wanting to let go. In his ears, Sayori's silent sobs and sniffles rang in a bittersweet way, sadness and joy mixing together.

They rang so clearly that he swore he could hear them next to him on the bed.

Akihiro opened his eyes. The lit numbers flashing on the clock next to his bed told him that he had been asleep for an hour and a half. It was not entirely dark; the street lamps outside cast tendrils of illumination inside his apartment unit's windows, creating both shadows and light on the walls and objects in the room. Though he had been sleeping for quite some time already, his senses weren't as woozy from sleep as he expected them to be.

He listened again, not daring to move from his spot on the bed. There was no mistaking it; on Sayori's side of the bed, he could hear her sniffling and crying silently.

Akihiro looked over his shoulder carefully at Sayori. His eyes adjusting to most of the darkness in his room, he saw that she was sitting instead of lying down. Her back rested against his bed's headboard, and her arms were braced around her knees. Her shoulders were trembling, and in the light seeping in from the windows, he saw tears glistening in her eyes.

He spoke up. "Sayori?"

Sayori twitched a little; apparently, she had been so caught up in crying that she didn't notice that he was awake. As Akihiro reached out and turned on the small lamp next to his alarm clock, Sayori wiped her tears with the back of her hand. It was all in vain, though; more leaked from the corners of her blue eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked her softly, sitting up as well. "Why are you crying?"

Sayori hiccupped slightly. "It's n-nothing," she replied quietly. "Just g-go back to sleep, Akihiro."

"You know that's not gonna happen until I figure out what's wrong, Sayori," he told her. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"No," said Sayori tearfully, "I didn't even fall asleep. . ."

_Awake for an hour and a half_. Startled, Akihiro sat up straighter. "What's the matter, Sayori? Come on, tell me. I don't want to see you like this."

Sayori looked at him despondently. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I shouldn't have cried like this. I just caused you more trouble when you should be sleeping already. . ."

"Sayori, _you _should be sleeping already as well," he told her seriously, "and I'm not gonna go back to sleep until you do. Now, please tell me, what happened? Why are you crying?"

Instead of replying, Sayori buried her face in her hands, weeping silently. It was a heartbreaking sight that made Akihiro feel like he was about to tear up as well. He wanted to hug her, to help her, even cry with her, but he felt as if he had been rooted on the spot, his emotions and thoughts grasping at straws. The mere sight of her made Akihiro's voice tremble when he spoke up again. "S-Sayori, please, tell me what's wrong. I want to help. If you're hurt, if you're not feeling well right now, I'll help you in any—"

Sayori looked at him, forestalling his words, and it took a great amount of effort for Akihiro to not break at how sorrowful she looked. It was a debilitating change from the bubbly, innocent and clumsy girl he had always known, and it shook him to his very core to the point where his words caught in his throat. She had been so happy earlier, and the two of them had so much fun. Now, though . . .

"No, there's n-no need, Akihiro," said Sayori silently. "You don't have to w-worry about me too much. I'm just o-overthinking again. . ."

_Overthinking about what? _And yet before Akihiro could ask the question out loud, he knew what Sayori meant. His thoughts brought him back to the things she often repeated in their conversations—the way she questioned or downplayed her worth, and the way she hinted that Akihiro had something better to do than be around her all the time. Sayori avoided his gaze, her lip trembling, her eyes now positively brimming with tears, as if she saw what he was thinking. For a long while, she didn't speak or move apart from sniffling and hiccupping as she tried containing her sobs. Akihiro let her be, waiting patiently for anything else she might say, not wishing to rush her or overwhelm her with more words at the moment.

Sayori broke the silence before he did. Her voice cracked a little. "Do you . . . D-Do you remember the nightmare I had earlier, Akihiro?"

_How could I forget? _Akihiro tensed with worry, remembering how Sayori looked and sounded so . . . _scared_ then. Instinctively, he held her hand. "What happened there?"

Sayori bit her lip. "I was with you. . . We were walking t-together, like we always do when we go to school, or when we g-go home. It was n-normal at first, but then . . . you . . . you s-suddenly vanished. I looked around and saw that I was alone, and there were . . . t-there were voices around me, saying all these mean things, dark and scary t-things. . . I was starting to panic, so I started looking for you. For a long t-time, I was running down the street, c-calling out your name.

"And then suddenly, you showed up again. Y-You were standing so far away, so I tried running towards you. The voices w-were getting louder and louder, and it was like the ground was vanishing underneath my feet with every step I took. . . And then . . . A-And then . . ."

At this, Sayori's voice started breaking in between gasps and sobs. "You s-started walking away from me. I tried to catch up, b-but for some reason, I couldn't. I began screaming, and then I heard your voice echo along with the others, telling me . . . t-telling me that . . . I'm worthless, and that you n-never wanted to see m-m-me again. . . I kept screaming and crying and calling your name, but it was no use. T-That was when you finally w-woke me up. . . It was horrible, all horrible. . . I was scared that it m-might happen again if I tried sleeping again, but it's no use. . ."

As she finished speaking, Sayori pulled her hand away from Akihiro's and turned away, weeping. Akihiro watched her cry, startled by the details of her dream and how eerily similar it was to the dream he had—looking for her, running towards her, calling out to her. The only difference was that it ended on a better note for him. Even though he knew that he wasn't technically the Akihiro in Sayori's dream, he still felt ashamed. The dream had basically echoed what she had been thinking to a darker and more hurtful degree by using him as a form of imagery in her mind. _No wonder she was so scared_.

Akihiro reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder, imploring her wordlessly to turn around. Though it took a few moments, she relented and turned back towards him bit by bit. Her face, however, was bowed, as if she couldn't bear to let Akihiro look at her while she was crying. Unperturbed by this, he cupped his hand on her cheek and gently eased her face upward until their eyes met.

"Sayori," he said kindly, "don't worry. That's just a nightmare. There's no possible way that I'd ever say those mean and terrible things to you. You're not worthless."

"B-But what if I am?" asked Sayori. "That's all I think about when I'm left alone w-with my thoughts and emotions. I d-don't want that, Akihiro. That's why . . . w-why . . . I don't want to leave your side!"

She spoke the last few words with mounting difficulty as her breath fought between her speaking and sobbing. "I don't want to b-be left alone, Akihiro. I don't w-want you to leave! I thought that w-when you finally realize just how I f-feel about you, you'd hate me because I'm just so p-pathetic and awkward and always disturbing you when you're doing something important, and you'd l-leave me b-because of all that. It's all I ever think about when I'm alone, when you go home after visiting me, when I bother you about something I n-need help with.

"I know it sounds so weird and needy, but I . . . I can't lie about it! That's why I'm trying s-so hard to be responsible, t-to make sure that you don't have to d-do everything for me all the time, because I don't want you to think t-that I'm just good for nothing and worthless, that I'm just dead weight! You don't d-deserve that in your life! You deserve someone good, Akihiro, and I want to b-be good, not just for me, but for you as well! But I know t-that it's a tough thing to do, and sometimes I wonder what'll happen if I f-fail."

Frantically, like a drowning person clinging to life and clawing for breath, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder, sobbing piteously. "I'm scared, Akihiro. I'm scared t-that one day, you might leave me f-for real, and I'll be all alone in the world. Please don't go! P-Please! I don't want to be alone with my thoughts anymore! It hurts so much . . . so m-m-much. . ."

For a long while afterwards, Sayori did nothing but pour her heart and soul out on Akihiro's shoulder. Soon, his shirt grew damp from her tears, and he could feel her hands clinging desperately to him, making him feel just how much she didn't want him to go like he did in her nightmare. Hearing Sayori say all this, hearing the way she was crying right now . . . Akihiro could feel his heart breaking with each passing second.

He embraced her tightly. "I won't let you go, Sayori. I won't l-leave you. I swear that, I swear," he said.

Still consumed by her grief, Sayori only muttered, "P-Please, Akihiro . . . Please don't leave me. . . Please. . ."

"I won't, Sayori," he assured her resolutely, "I won't."

By the time the two of them finally parted, Sayori's eyes were red from crying. Akihiro gave her his most reassuring and gentlest smile and pressed his forehead against hers. It was a very intimate gesture, and yet he knew it was necessary. "Don't worry about it anymore, okay? What you saw before, that's not true. You're not worthless. You're a sweet and kind girl who deserves every bit of happiness that you can get."

He turned off his lamp and grasped her arms with his hands, easing her down gently until the two of them were lying down once again, this time facing each other. Once they had lain down comfortably, Akihiro wrapped his arms around her again in a protective hug. "That's it. No more tears, alright? Now come on, let's get back to sleep. We still have some cooking to do in the morning, right? Don't worry. Just go to sleep. I'll be right here. I won't leave your side."

At last, Sayori managed to smile back in spite of her tears. "Not even if you need to g-go to the b-bathroom in the middle of the night?" she stammered.

That made Akihiro laugh, a welcome feeling after the pain he felt from watching her weep. "Well, that might be an exception," he admitted lightly, "but you know what I meant, right?

"Y-Yes, I do," said Sayori, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "Thank you, Akihiro. T-Thank you so much. . ."

Around ten minutes later, Sayori finally drifted off. Her head was nuzzled against Akihiro's chest, and her breathing had relaxed. For a long time after she had fallen asleep, he stayed awake, making sure that she was truly sleeping peacefully. He didn't release his embrace, nor did he even dare to move to lie down more comfortably—the pain that Sayori showed earlier far outweighed any discomfort he could be feeling right now. He watched her sleep, waiting as the soft sounds of her breaths lulled him to sleep. He wondered how many nights Sayori had endured crying herself to sleep without him in the past, and the thought made him tear up unexpectedly.

_I'll make sure you'll always be happy from now on, Sayori. That's a promise. _Akihiro closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come, wishing that this time, Sayori would have a better dream with him.


	18. Chapter 18 - Getting Somewhere

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – GETTING SOMEWHERE (NatSuke)**

It was a glorious Sunday morning, with the sun warding off the chill of the day without making the atmosphere too warm. Downtown was relatively quiet as people opted to stay indoors instead of eating out or going about for the weekend. Everything there, from the buildings to the trees, seemed to be magnified in both appearance and feel as the sun shone merrily down. In spite of all this, Natsuki couldn't help but feel more nervous than excited as she waited outside the convenience store where Daisuke would meet her. Her right hand curled into a tight fist on the strap of the paper bag she was carrying.

For one thing, she was slightly conscious about what she was wearing: a short-sleeved white shirt edged with pink, a frilly pink skirt that was around the same length as her school uniform's skirt, and a pair of pink-and-white shoes. While she knew that no one—not even Daisuke—could tell her off for wearing a combination of attire that had so much pink, she was somehow unsure whether she had dressed that way _for _Daisuke without her realizing it back at home. She smothered the thought vehemently in her head before it could make her blush.

As she waited, Natsuki wondered what made her agree to meeting Daisuke apart from the fact that she needed to buy the required things needed for two upcoming school projects. Daisuke had told her last Friday that he would be buying the stuff he would need today, and he had asked her if she wanted to go along with him to do the same. Somehow, Natsuki knew that she had no other alternatives; she had spent yesterday finishing an essay for Social Studies as well as a special project, so Sunday seemed to be the only time she'd be able to go out and buy what else she needed.

_Yes, that's all it is. I just didn't have any other day to buy all the stuff I need alone_. She clung onto the thought determinedly even as her head told her that she just wanted to spend more time with Daisuke outside of school. Try as she might, Natsuki couldn't help but blush now. Daisuke had only grown even kinder towards her ever since he began bringing her lunch from his family's eatery, and while Natsuki found the gestures as immensely helpful as she found their manga-reading sessions enjoyable, she also felt incredibly mortified at them. This was the second time they would meet outside of school; the first had been two weeks ago, though it had also been trivial at best—a small meeting for a group presentation they had for Social Studies after school with their other classmates. Obviously, their second and current meet-up was starkly different, mainly because it would just be the two of them together.

At last, Daisuke showed up; he called out to her from a distance, arriving around five minutes after she did. He was wearing a green hoodie, a white shirt, a pair of black pants and some matching sneakers, and yet he looked nothing short of handsome. He looked as if he was about to say something in greeting, but his voice faltered a little as he stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly open in surprise. Natsuki's blush deepened; she knew it was because of her outfit.

She stood up straighter and looked him in the eye. "Well?" she said defensively.

Daisuke blinked. "Oh! Sorry about that," he said apologetically. "Um, did you wait too long?"

"Not really," Natsuki admitted, trying to keep her voice firm. "Shall we go?"

Daisuke grinned. "Sure! Good thing we don't have to go far for the stuff we need, hmm? We'll find what we need for both History and English at _Gallagher's_. That's where Naoki bought his own stuff last Friday, I think."

Natsuki nodded. Their History professor had required them to create a detailed visual representation of any historical timeline of their choosing, while their English professor had asked them to read and analyze any novelette or short story collection that they fancied. "What do w-we need for History again?" asked Natsuki.

Daisuke tapped at his fingers, numbering out the things needed as he narrated them. "Illustration boards, construction paper, glue, some bond paper to print everything on."

With that, the two of them began walking to _Gallagher's_, a bookstore that sat near the mall. Natsuki went there sometimes to look for a few manga books during her free days, so she felt like she could at least browse for a couple of them for her leisure after they had bought the materials they needed. Daisuke walked alongside her, casually remarking about how pretty the city looked today as they went. Natsuki nodded and agreed alongside him, careful not to cast any glance towards him.

"What's that for?" asked Daisuke as they walked, nodding his head towards the paper bag she was carrying.

Natsuki waved her hand dismissively. "Just some stuff I already bought earlier when I was waiting for you. Anyway, what are you gonna be doing for English? Short story collection or a novelette?"

"Well, if you ask me, I'd prefer to write a ten-page essay on manga," said Daisuke with a chuckle. "Then again, old Kobayashi might not appreciate that."

"Hey, manga is literature, too, you know!" Natsuki told him fervently. "Just because it's a whole new genre doesn't mean it can't be interpreted like literature! Besides, certain types of manga can be just as serious as any novel can be!"

"I agree," Daisuke remarked. "Sadly, not many people think the same."

"Ugh, I know, right?" Natsuki grumbled.

_Gallagher's_ was almost devoid of people when they arrived. Then again, it was only eleven o'clock in the morning, so any customers that needed school supplies or books would only come by later. Natsuki almost went for the manga section immediately as she entered the store, but she slowed down when she remembered what they were here for and who she was with. Daisuke took one look around the bookstore and turned to her with a grin. As if he had read her mind, he said, "Let's look for some manga afterwards, eh?"

Natsuki looked at him for a moment. _Observant, as always_. She gave him a grudging smile. "Alright."

It took only five minutes for them to buy most of that they needed. Natsuki had taken longer in looking for materials as she browsed the shelves for good quality coloring markers, some decorative paper, and some coloring pencils. Daisuke, who had bought only the required materials, looked at her curiously as she chose between two different brands of markers.

Natsuki caught him staring. "W-What?" she asked sheepishly.

"What are you gonna use those for?" he asked.

She grimaced. "For the History project, of course!"

"But we don't need all that," said Daisuke.

"Doesn't mean we can't use them, right?" she told him defensively. "Besides, I want to make my project a bit more colorful and pleasant to look at. I don't want it looking like an old bulletin board or something like that. Visual presentation's always a plus in projects like this!"

"I see." Daisuke gave her a small smile. "What are you gonna do to decorate it?"

"Just wait and see!" Natsuki replied proudly. "It's gonna blow everyone's socks off!"

Once Natsuki had managed to choose what else she needed to buy, the two of them moved to the book section in the store to choose what novelette or short story collection they would be using for their English project. Daisuke had taken the initiative of carrying their things in separate shopping baskets, leaving their hands free to browse through books as he set the baskets down next to the bookshelves. Grateful for this, Natsuki placed the extra paper bag she was carrying with the rest of her History project materials, setting it carefully atop everything else.

There were plenty of both new and used books on display, and Natsuki mused that this would take longer than they had initially anticipated. Daisuke, however, was quick to remind her of what they were looking for. "As long as it's not a journal or an essay book, and as long as it exceeds a hundred and fifty pages, it's gonna be good enough for the project," Daisuke told her. "Then again, if we're talking about manga, I wouldn't mind reading three hundred pages for it."

"You've got that right," said Natsuki with a sigh.

"I'll let you know if I find something nice," Daisuke went on. "I'll take this side, and you take that one, okay?"

"Sure thing."

It did not take long before Natsuki had cleared most of the books in front of her without really finding one that both appealed to her and had just the right number of pages to make the project easier to do. The rest of the novels on her shelf, however, sat higher up, and she saw that there was no way for her to reach them. She looked at Daisuke, who looked busy browsing through another shelf. Though she knew that she could ask him for help in reaching up there since he practically towered over her, she quickly resented the thought as it made her conscious of how short she was. Sighing in exasperation, she decided to just stand on the tips of her toes and see if she could at least pull down one book from the top shelves. In spite of her efforts, she could only touch the books with her fingertips.

Natsuki grunted angrily, cursing her height for being too short and the bookshelf for being too tall. Though she could always move on to another bookshelf, the thought of her conquering this particular obstacle instead of the other way around was starting to get on her nerves.

She stopped thinking about what to do, however, when a hand reached upwards onto the shelf. Natsuki turned her head and saw Daisuke looking up at the shelf as he wordlessly took down one book after another, stacking them on top of each other on a lower shelf. When he had finished taking down around fifteen of them, he stepped back and grinned.

"You looked like you needed some help," he said brightly.

Natsuki stared for a moment, shifting her glance from Daisuke to the books he had taken for her. Slowly, frustration welled up inside her.

"Why did you have to do that?!" she snapped.

Daisuke's grin vanished abruptly. "Huh?"

"I was supposed to get them myself! What, you think I'm too short or something?!"

"Ah, I . . . d-didn't say that, Natsuki!" said Daisuke with some mounting nervousness.

"You were thinking it!" she said crossly. "You didn't have to do that, alright?! I can do things perfectly f-fine on my own!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," said Daisuke quickly and quietly, looking around to see if Natsuki's angry tones were causing any disturbance in the bookstore. "I just wanted to help you, alright? Besides, h-how were you gonna get those books if I didn't lend you a hand?"

"W-Well, um . . ." Now it was Natsuki's turn to look around; she cast her eyes over anything that could have helped her reach up the bookshelf, like a box or a stepladder, but she found no such objects in sight. She looked back at the bookshelf and saw as well that she couldn't have reached the higher sections even if she tried jumping. Defeated, she glanced at Daisuke sullenly, moved towards the books he had set down for her, and began looking at them one by one in silence. Only then did Daisuke return to his bookshelf.

As expected, looking through the books took longer than buying the materials needed for their History project. Daisuke chose a nonfiction book entitled _Sinners of Time_, while Natsuki settled for _Breath of the Sea_, a romance book. All throughout their choosing session, she didn't utter a word to Daisuke, fuming as she was from his help, and she opted instead to shoot irate glances at him every time he would look towards her.

Their manga-browsing session was also affected, though to be fair, there weren't a lot of new manga books that caught their eyes—most of them were either series that Natsuki had already read or genres that she didn't dig, and the same case was true for Daisuke as well. Because of this, the two of them decided to just get on with the rest of the day. Even after they had paid for everything and exited _Gallagher's_ around ten minutes later, however, Natsuki didn't let up on her frustration, prompting Daisuke to speak as they walked down the street.

"Natsuki, if I offended you or anything when I helped you earlier, I apologize," he told her in an earnest tone. "It's really unintentional, okay? I was only trying to help you."

"You're always helping me," Natsuki told him grumpily, tightening her grip on her things. "It's n-not that I'm not grateful for it or a-anything, but it's not always fun to feel."

"Like I said, I never intended to make you feel like that, alright?" he said kindly. "Again, I'm really sorry."

She let out a sigh. Try as she might, she could never stay angry at Daisuke for such a thing. She decided to mellow a bit. "Okay, I get it," she huffed. "It's just that . . . I don't like it when people make me feel small or weak. Just because I'm short doesn't mean I should always be helped by people."

"I see," said Daisuke. "Well, I'll try to keep that in mind in the future. But I just want you to know that it's never bad to ask for help when you need it, okay?"

"I know, I know," muttered Natsuki.

"And besides, you're anything but feeble, Natsuki," Daisuke went on. "People who think you are just because you're short or small are seriously underestimating how smart and sharp you can be."

It took a large amount of effort for Natsuki to not stop in her tracks as Daisuke said those words. She did slow down her pace, however, and her efforts could not stop her cheeks from turning a bit pink. "What made you s-say that, dummy?"

"Well, you _are _smart and alert," replied Daisuke sincerely. "You pick up quickly on the little things that people tend to miss, and you remember a lot of things especially during our manga-reading sessions. Just because you're lacking in terms of height doesn't mean the rest of you is lacking as well!"

"Oh, so you do admit that I'm short, then? Jerk." Natsuki punched him both peevishly and playfully on the arm.

"Ow!" Daisuke rubbed the spot where her fist landed. "Hey, that hurt, you know?"

"What can I say? I can be pretty strong as well!" she said proudly.

"Exactly my point," said Daisuke. "You shouldn't hate being considered small or weak, because you're not. See, you're smart, alert, _and _strong—I mean, holy crap, my arm really felt that."

"W-Well, I don't totally _hate _being small," Natsuki admitted. "Sometimes, I like it w-when people tend to underestimate me because they think I'm only w-worth my size. It makes it so much better when I prove that I can be both small a-and better than them, you know?"

Indeed, Natsuki prided herself often on the fact that she was smarter than most people would give her credit for, and while she never answered much during oral recitations, she got good grades on a number of assignments and quizzes. Even in Physical Education, where a girl with a smaller build like her would often struggle catching up to fitter and more athletic students, she had proven her prowess more often than not when they played softball and handball.

"But it gets tiring sometimes when I can't be g-good at something, no matter how hard I try," she went on. "It just makes me feel like I'm a failure, that I can't always be good at everything. That's w-why I got angry when you helped me, a-and . . ."

Her voice trailed off for a moment, wondering if she was starting to say too much. The thought made her suddenly feel conscious, so she snapped back into defense mode. "Alright, that's enough! You're starting to make me say weird things!" she hissed, punching him again on the arm.

"Ow! Hey, to be fair, you're the one who kept speaking! I didn't even say anything else yet," Daisuke told her jokingly even as he winced from the blow.

Natsuki glared at him. She raised her fist to hit him again, prompting him to shield himself with his things. "Ah, no! You're gonna break my arm if you keep doing that!"

She grinned and lowered her fist. "Serves you right," she said with a giggle. "Anyway, where else are we going? You said you'd go somewhere after we buy all the stuff we need, right?"

"Oh, right!" said Daisuke, checking his wristwatch. "It's almost eleven-thirty. I was thinking of eating lunch somewhere with you."

Again, Natsuki almost stopped in her tracks as she heard his reply. Though she knew that she should have grown used to eating lunch with Daisuke by now, eating outside of school was something she had never done before with anyone in her life. It made her conscious of how such a thing can be easily perceived as a date by both strangers and friends alike. Then again, the same could be said of their lunch meetings at the school grounds, which also gave off an impression of how close the two of them seemed to be.

"W-Well . . . um, if you want, then let's g-go," she stammered.

"Great!" said Daisuke.

* * *

Daisuke decided to take Natsuki to one of the many fast food places that he, Kenta and Naoki usually went to—_Big Tom's_. It was a small brick building, smaller than most cafés, with not much design on the outside to distinguish it from other flashier eateries other than an unlit neon sign displaying the joint's name. The interior was nearly as minimalistic as the exterior was—simple wooden tables and chairs were laid out at varying spaces for customers to sit on, while the whitewashed walls had little to no decoration adorning them. Despite this, the place was a popular pick for both students and nine-to-five workers, as evidenced by the customers who had occupied more than half of the tables already. Daisuke sensed that even if Natsuki may not dig the place's crowdedness, the food will make up for it.

It was already close to noon by the time their orders arrived: Daisuke with a jumbo cheeseburger and fries, Natsuki with a smaller version of his chosen dish. Their discussion soon shifted to the topic of which historical timeline they would be choosing for their respective History projects. Daisuke had decided to go with the Industrial Revolution for its veritable gold mine of facts and events. Natsuki, on the other hand, expressed her distaste for his choice, citing how it would be too bland because it would be difficult to color and design such a presentation.

"I think I'm gonna go with the Renaissance," said Natsuki as she ate. "The arts, the classics, music and paintings and literature . . . that's a really colorful timeline." She chewed thoughtfully and looked directly at Daisuke. "This cheeseburger's really good, by the way."

"I'm glad you think so," said Daisuke with a grin. "My friends and I go here when we can for the food. How about you? Where do you often hang out at?"

Natsuki shifted anxiously in her seat. She mumbled something under her breath, avoiding Daisuke's eyes. "Uh, what? I'm sorry, I can't hear you," asked Daisuke.

Natsuki mumbled again. Daisuke heard her this time, but only barely. "Nowhere. . ."

Daisuke raised his eyebrows. "Wait, so you don't go out often?"

"Could you not rub it in?" hissed Natsuki, a pink flush creeping up her neck.

". . . Oh, I see," said Daisuke. "It's just that . . ."

He fell silent, opting instead to finish his cheeseburger and allowing Natsuki to do the same. Though he knew that Natsuki never had that many friends because of her experiences, he was still surprised at the idea that she never hung out for the sake of having fun outside of school. When he had texted her the day before about going out to buy the materials they needed, she had been both unsure and excited, something Daisuke could see even through all the cute words and emojis she used whenever she texted. He did manage to coax her, however, and here she was. Perhaps that was why she had been a bit defensive again at _Gallagher's_, and especially conscious about him noticing what she was wearing when he arrived.

"Well, this doesn't have to be the first and last time we see each other outside of school, you know?" he said, smiling. "I mean, I'm not saying that hanging out with you at school is starting to bore me. I'm just saying that we don't have to wait for weekends to be able to have fun and eat out and . . . and see each other like this, you know?"

Natsuki's eyes widened a little, and the pinkness on her face deepened into red now. She set down her last bite of cheeseburger and turned away, fidgeting. "You're starting to make it s-sound weird," she huffed.

"I'm sorry." Daisuke laughed, and he could somehow feel himself turning pink from his own words. "I mean, it's true, isn't it? We can always see each other and hang out even outside of school. But only if you want to!"

Natsuki didn't move. Daisuke watched as she balled her hands into fists. After a brief moment, she spoke up.

". . . Of course I want to . . . dummy."

Her firm reply startled Daisuke. Natsuki eased her glance back slowly towards him. The determination in her pink eyes, which contrasted with the flush on her face, made Daisuke unable to look away. Her lips were pursed, as if she wanted to say more, but couldn't—and somehow, Daisuke was struck dumb as well the longer he stared into her eyes. He took in her entire appearance, from her vivid pink hair to her fiercely beautiful face to the clothes she was wearing, and his mind was once again suffused with the thoughts he had earlier when he arrived at the convenience store where she had been waiting.

Natsuki had never looked so . . . _cute_.

* * *

As a last-minute addition to their day downtown, the two of them decided to go to another bookstore—_Booksmith—_to browse again for some manga. Daisuke knew that this would brighten up Natsuki further and relieve the tension the two of them felt earlier at lunchtime. Though he was happy that manga-browsing did lighten up Natsuki's mood, Daisuke couldn't shake from his brain the image of her staring so intently at him.

Thankfully, their impromptu manga-browsing paid dividends, as Natsuki managed to buy the first book of _Neko Love Calamity_, a new shoujo series that she wanted to start reading into. Daisuke, on the other hand, bought a curious new sci-fi release named _Future Sigma_, created by the same team that wrote _Gun Breakers_. He voiced his excitement to Natsuki about being able to discuss the new books they had bought in the future, though Natsuki was quick to remind him that he still had a long way to go with _Parfait Girls—_eleven more acts, to be precise—while she still needed to finish the last eight books of _Band Fist Revolution_. When everything was done and paid for, the two of them stepped out of _Booksmith_ and looked at one another.

"I'm gonna be going home," said Daisuke. "Naoki's busy with some schoolwork, and Kenta's not the kind of guy who'd go out on Sundays, so there's nothing else for me to do. Might be a good time to start working on the projects, right? How about you?"

"I might just end up doing the same," said Natsuki. "Unless you . . . have somewhere else we can go to. . . I mean, it's not like I can't start working on the projects p-properly if we spend more time around here, of c-course!"

Her words shook Daisuke again, but the stern defense she put up almost immediately made him smile as well. "Well, to be honest, if we didn't have these projects to take care of, we'd go to the mall. But there's always next time!"

"Uh, y-yeah, next time . . ." Natsuki mumbled. She looked both relieved and disappointed.

Daisuke gave her a thumbs-up. "I'm gonna be walking home. How about you?"

"Same," replied Natsuki. "It's not that far. I can walk from here."

"Alright, then," said Daisuke, clapping his hand gently on Natsuki's shoulder. "Take care, okay? If things get boring while you're working on your project, don't hesitate to text me up. See you tomorrow!"

With that, he turned and began to walk home, feeling good at how the day turned out overall even as he privately wished it could have gone on longer. He had not gone beyond five paces, however, when he felt a small but strong hand take hold of his arm. Startled, Daisuke looked around to see Natsuki holding onto him, her eyes shut tight and her mouth contorted tightly, as if she wanted to scream. Again, her face had turned pink, almost matching the shade of her hair.

"W-Wait a second, okay?" she stammered fiercely. "There's . . . um . . ."

Daisuke raised his eyebrows at her. "What is it, Natsuki?" he asked as he turned around to face her. "Is . . . Is something wrong?"

"No!" Natsuki cried out, shaking her head insistently as she let go of his arm. "It's just . . . j-just, ugh . . ."

Suddenly, in one swift movement, she set down her bag of project materials and books and held out the paper bag that she had been carrying with her all day. Her eyes were still closed, as if anticipating an explosion to go off around her at any second. The paper bag trembled and swayed gently along with her hand.

"Take it. I know that I told you it's something I bought earlier, but . . . it's not exactly that," she spluttered, her breathing rising with every exhalation she made. "It's a gift I made . . . for you."

Daisuke's eyes widened now. As the gravity of Natsuki's words sunk into his mind, he felt heat creep up to his ears and face. He stared closely, shifting his eyes from Natsuki to the paper bag, a number of questions running wildly in his head. Still, he knew that he should at least stop being rude and accept . . . whatever this gift was from her. Without a word, he took the paper bag with his free hand and was about to peek into it when Natsuki shouted again.

"_Don't!_" Some people who were passing by on the sidewalk turned their heads at her exclamation, causing her to blush further. She exhaled resignedly, clutching her hands together in a painful way. "I mean, don't open it yet, okay?" she went on in a quieter tone. "I d-don't . . . want you to see my face when you t-take a look at it. I'm gonna g-go home now, so just open it w-when you don't see me around the street anymore!"

"Um . . . Okay, if you s-say so," said Daisuke. He grinned nervously. "Thank you, Natsuki."

Natsuki smiled a little back at him—though emotions were still warring on her face, the expression warmed Daisuke's heart considerably. The smile didn't linger for long, however; Natsuki swiftly picked up her project materials, turned around and started running off into the distance, vanishing from sight as she rounded a street corner before he could call out to her. Daisuke stared after her for a few more moments, his heart beating excitedly in his chest from what had just transpired. He shifted his gaze back to the paper bag, musing that it would be safe to open now that Natsuki was definitely out of sight.

Taking a deep breath, he set down his things, opened the paper bag and looked at what was in it: a rectangular Tupperware box, its lid a vivid pink plastic one. Frowning thoughtfully, Daisuke took it out of the paper bag carefully and noticed that it had something inside. He took off the lid.

Inside were four cupcakes, arranged in a row to fit neatly into the box. They were laden with fluffy white icing and designed to look like cats, with chocolate icing for whiskers and chocolate pieces for the ears and eyes.

Enraptured with an emotion that he could not quite fathom, Daisuke put the lid back on the box and looked towards where Natsuki had run off to. As Natsuki had already gone, he knew there was no point in looking there or even going after her. Smiling, he returned the box carefully inside the paper bag, picked up his other things and began walking home.


	19. Chapter 19 - After-School Afterglow

**CHAPTER NINETEEN – AFTER-SCHOOL AFTERGLOW (MoniKenta)**

". . . and then I just accompanied her outside the mall after we ate dinner. She said she was gonna be waiting for her family's driver to pick her up, as usual. She told me that she had a good time, and that she, uh, you know . . . she said that she was looking forward to more meet-ups like that."

As Kenta finished speaking, he didn't know whether to puff out his chest proudly or scratch his head embarrassedly. Daisuke and Naoki kept staring at him, too engrossed with excitement at his story to continue eating. Naoki was smirking a little, while Daisuke looked to be holding in a gleeful laugh at his expense. Kenta frowned at them both.

"Say what you gotta say," he grumbled.

As if on cue, Daisuke began laughing out loud, while Naoki chuckled more modestly. "I knew it, I knew you dolts were gonna laugh," Kenta snapped. "Alright, let it all out."

"No, wait, we're not laughing because it's funny!" said Daisuke in between his laughs. "No, really! We're proud of you, man! We weren't expecting things to go that way with you two!"

"I agree. Well done, Kenta," said Naoki with a nod. "You've definitely made a lot of progress with Monika."

"Hey, it's not like I was trying to ask her out or anything to begin with, alright?" Kenta retorted. "I mean, of course, I would if I could, b-but—"

"Go for it, man!" Daisuke cut in. "Seriously, she went to the movies with you, ate out with you, and all that. That has to mean something, right?"

"Not to mention that she was also evidently excited enough that she decided to meet up with you a day earlier," Naoki pointed out. "I'm certain she enjoys your presence more than anyone else's company right now."

"I dunno about that," Kenta mumbled. "It's not like she hasn't got any other friends, right?"

"Yeah, but does she go out with them the same way she does with you?" asked Daisuke. "And think about it; it's always only the two of you. No common friends, no classmates, just you and her. That means something."

"S-Stop making it sound all weird, okay?" said Kenta, his ears turning red. "I'm thinking about all these things, don't you dolts worry. I just d-don't wanna get my hopes up or assume t-too much. . ."

Indeed, Kenta would be lying if he said that he had never given the past few days he had spent with Monika some deep thinking. After their Saturday outing—again, he still couldn't bring himself to say that it was a date—his feelings for Monika grew even more. Even now, he could not get her sweet voice, her piercing emerald eyes, and her perfectly featured face out of his mind, nor could he even begin to fathom how lucky he was with everything. Daisuke and Naoki were both right in a sense that Monika seemed to enjoy his company a lot, even if he had already seen this for himself during the time they spent together. He did, however, keep the more personal things the two of them had discussed to himself, such as the issue Monika had with her parents and the bit about her past admirers. Even so, he knew that Monika must trust him well enough to tell him about them.

_Daisuke's right, all this must mean something, but . . . _Kenta sighed. Every time he started getting glimmers of hope about Monika, the memories of his past dealings with girls always came up to dampen his spirits. He sensed that if he chose to take that one step forward into what could be a whole new horizon, he would only muck everything up like he did in the past, and that was the last thing that he wanted to happen with Monika.

Kenta decided to forego discussing that for now. He speared a piece of pork cutlet from his lunch tray, took a bite, and spoke up as he chewed. "Alright, that's enough about me, you dolts. How about you two start telling me about your girlfriends instead of listening to me talking about Monika all the time?"

"For the nth time, Kenta, Yuri's not my girlfriend," said Naoki.

"And Natsuki's not my girlfriend," Daisuke chimed in as he chewed his own mouthful of fish and rice from a bento box. "I mean, I'll admit, Natsuki's a really neat girl, but—"

"Really neat, eh?" Kenta chuckled. "For all I know, you might be going out with her already, like Naoki over here with Yuri. Didn't he tell you? They started going out a couple of weeks ago!"

"Wait, you're _dating_ Yuri?!" asked Daisuke, shifting his glance towards Naoki.

"I wouldn't call it 'dating,' Daisuke," replied Naoki as he shot Kenta a pointed look. "It's just a couple of book café hangouts after school, casual stuff and—"

"Ah, don't be shy about it, Naoki, we'll support you!" Kenta interjected affably. "As long as you give us some really good details on every date you two go on, that is!"

"Come to think of it, don't you usually eat lunch with Natsuki most of the time now, Daisuke?" Naoki inquired as he took a sip of apple juice. "Why are you here?"

"She's with a few classmates of ours in the library for their group presentation at Moral Studies later," said Daisuke. "She told me that she'll be fine for today even if I'm not around."

"Do you miss her already, Daisuke?" asked Kenta jokingly.

To his surprise, instead of brushing off the question like Naoki does, Daisuke shrugged and replied, "Well, to be honest, I kinda do. I mean, this isn't the first time we don't get to read manga because of school stuff, but since yesterday, she's been acting a bit, er . . . odd."

"Yesterday?" said Naoki.

Daisuke's face flushed a little. "Yeah, I . . . I went with her downtown yesterday to buy some stuff for our other projects," he replied a bit quietly.

Kenta guffawed as he slapped his hand on their cafeteria table. "Oh, man, I knew Naoki's not the only one here who's making moves!" he said gleefully. "Looks like you two have some beans to spill every week from now on! I didn't know you even had it in you, Daisuke!"

"Well, I dunno about t-that," Daisuke began.

"No, no buts, no exceptions!" Kenta went on. "I'm out here sharing more than I need to with you two dolts, so it's only fitting that you return the favor! I ain't gonna share anymore if you two—"

"Kenta?"

Kenta stopped dead as he recognized that sweet, melodious voice. He slowly craned his head around. Half-expected, half-unanticipated, Monika was standing there in her complete beauty. His glee evaporated in an instant, now replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. In a flash, he sat up straighter and cleared his throat, smiling awkwardly back. "H-Hello, Monika!"

Monika turned her gaze towards Daisuke and Naoki, who were now trying to hold back their laughs at this new turn of events. "Hello, you two! Do you mind if I sit with you guys for a while? I just need to talk to Kenta about something."

"Oh, sure, go right ahead, Monika!" replied Daisuke, gesturing at the empty space next to Kenta, who bit his lip as his face turned red.

"Thank you!"

Kenta turned to face Monika as she sat down. Like at the movies, she seemed to have no trouble sitting next to him once again, nor did she seem to find it any trouble to have Daisuke and Naoki present. Kenta avoided his best friends' gazes, knowing that they would probably be tempted to burst out laughing at his expense at the moment.

"W-What is it?" he stammered at her.

"Well, it might be too much to ask, in all honesty," Monika began, but he cut her off.

"No, it's t-totally fine with me, whatever it is! Remember, I told y-you before that if you need help with anything, a-anything at all, you can come to me!"

He said these words with a manly flourish, yet he couldn't help but feel even more nervous, especially with an audience of two watching. Still, he knew better than to back out on his word to the girl of his dreams.

Monika still looked unsure. "Yes, but . . . are you sure it'll be alright with you?"

Kenta pounded his chest lightly with his fist. "Just say the word!" Across the table, Daisuke sniggered.

"Um, okay, if you say so," said Monika, relenting with a smile. "You see, a few new members from our debate club will be competing in an interschool competition next week. Their topic will be about the implementation of extra sports activities in the Physical Education syllabi for middle schools and high schools across the country. We'll be helping our club members prepare for the debate partly by surveying students, and that includes those with athletic backgrounds and an interest in sports. We'll then use the data we'll be getting as part of the demography assessment that they will use to back up their arguments in the competition."

Though a few words in Monika's statement sounded rather alien to him, Kenta understood most of what she had said. "I see," he replied. "What do you need f-from me?"

"Well, I know that you're good at sports, and you told me before that you used to have some athletic background back in middle school," Monika went on, "so I figured it would be good if you took part of our survey. Will that be okay with you?"

Kenta swallowed nervously. True enough, he did have some considerable sports prowess—something that many students in their year knew about—as well as an athletic background from being part of the basketball varsity team back in middle school, which he had told Monika about as a random topic during one of their text conversations in the past. He was, however, intimidated by the idea of being surveyed about such things for many reasons.

"Uh, it's okay with me, I g-guess!" he replied. "But I, ah . . . won't I mess a-anything up?"

"Of course you won't, silly!" said Monika. "It's just a survey—you don't have to worry about getting anything wrong, okay?"

"Oh, really?" Kenta didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more anxious. Still, he knew that he had to press on. "Um, w-well, if you say so, then I'll have a g-go at it!"

Monika's emerald eyes lit up further. "Great!" she said elatedly. "Just meet me at our clubroom after class, okay? You know where it is, right?"

"How could I forget?" said Kenta with a grin. "S-See you then!"

"Sure thing!" said Monika, beaming at him before taking her leave with a nod at Daisuke and Naoki. When she was out of sight, Kenta turned back to his friends. As he had expected, they were looking at him with wide, knowing grins on their faces.

"Don't even think about opening your mouths, you dolts," he grumbled sheepishly.

* * *

Around three hours later, Kenta made his way to the debate club's room, passing by other students who were now making their way out of their classrooms and going home. He knew the way based from experience, when Monika asked him to help her move some extra armchairs into the clubroom for a few lower-year students that wanted to join the debate club. He walked quietly, wondering what to expect from the interview or survey or whatever it was that he would be taking part of. In no time at all, he arrived outside the clubroom's door. He knocked three times and opened the door quietly, looking around inside.

Monika was sitting at one side of the room with four other members of the debate club, conversing with them seriously. On another end of the room, there were a couple of other members who were busy reading from a bunch of papers and notebooks, their faces bearing looks of deep concentration. The sound of the door opening, however, made everyone look up from whatever it was that they were doing, making Kenta feel even more self-conscious.

"Ah, there you are, Kenta!" said Monika happily. She excused herself from her fellow members and stood up from her chair, making her way towards him. "Come in, come in!"

As Kenta entered the clubroom, he shifted his feet nervously. The last time he had entered here to deposit the extra armchairs Monika had asked him to retrieve, there had been only two other members inside as the other members had not arrived yet. Now, it felt as if he was stepping into the lions' den, especially with the stares coming his way.

"We've already surveyed a few students before you arrived," Monika said as she led Kenta towards an empty seat. "Looks like you'll be the last for today. Just wait for me here, alright? I'll go get the survey."

"S-Sure thing!" replied Kenta.

Monika made her way back to the other club members as Kenta sat down. To pass the time, he looked around the room, taking in its sights and being careful not to stare at anyone directly. In a room full of undoubtedly intelligent students whose job it was to compete with other smart students from other schools in verbal arguments, never before had he felt so out of place.

Monika returned shortly, carrying some papers in her hand. "So," she said cheerfully, "are you ready?"

"Yeah, sure!" replied Kenta with a supplementary nod. "So how is this gonna go?"

"Like I said at lunchtime, you're just going to be answering the questions on the survey we prepared." Monika placed the papers on the armrest of Kenta's seat, smoothing them out as she did so. "It's just three pages, so it won't be too long. Most of the questions require simple answers like "Yes" or "No," but there are a few questions there that need a more detailed answer from you—a couple of sentences will do, though longer ones are also appreciated. I hope that won't be too much trouble to you!"

"No, it's alright!" said Kenta. In spite of Monika's words, he couldn't help but feel like he was about to answer a difficult test. Still, there was no going back now. "I'll take care of this in no time at all!"

Monika smiled. "Thank you! If you have any questions, feel free to approach me or anyone here, okay?"

"Alright, no problemo!"

He reached inside his backpack and took out a pen to begin answering the survey. Monika, on the other hand, returned to her seat next to the other debate club members, and they resumed speaking in a low voice, as if careful not to disturb Kenta or the other members who were busy. Kenta looked over the survey and saw that most of the questions asked whether or not he wholly agreed or disagreed with the statements presented. Shrugging, he began reading and answering.

True to what Monika said, most of the questions were related to the implementation of extra sports activities in schools across Japan, and a student's academic and personal interest with Physical Education and sports. As a sports lover and athletically inclined student, Kenta was totally fine with the idea of having more hours devoted to Physical Education in a class week, which would mean less time to spend on books, lectures and written tests. He did, however, also remember the plight of students like Yuri who struggled with P.E. and wondered just how they would react to an increase of P.E. in school.

Soon, Kenta stumbled across one of the questions that Monika had pointed out, the ones that needed an answer of at least two sentences. He tapped his pen against the paper as he began thinking. As he looked around the clubroom vacantly, he saw Monika excuse herself from the others once again, stand up and leave the clubroom. Before she went, she glanced over at him and mouthed "_Be right back!_" with a smile. Kenta smiled back and gave her a thumbs-up. As soon as she left, he continued staring around the room, wondering how best to articulate his thoughts on the survey without sounding too lazy or uninterested. As he did so, however, something caught his attention.

Three of the male club members that Monika had been talking to were watching him as they stood by. They were no longer talking to one another, presumably since Monika left the room for a moment. Their arms were folded across their chests, and their faces . . . Kenta stopped as he saw the kind of looks they were giving him.

Contempt.

When they caught sight of Kenta looking back at them, they began chuckling rather derisively and shaking their heads. Kenta frowned as he looked away, wondering if he was somehow being deliberately mocked. For all he knew, they could be simply talking to each other when he caught sight of them, but the looks that they were giving him before could not be mistaken for anything else. Try as he might, even as he looked back at the survey and focused intently on the words there, he could not help but be bothered by it all.

Before he could reply or do anything else, however, Monika reentered the classroom. She sauntered over to him and said cordially, "Hello, Kenta! How's the survey going so far?"

"Just a few more questions," said Kenta. In spite of the irksome feeling he had, Monika's timely return and presence eased his feelings considerably.

At that moment, another voice spoke up. "So, Monika, shall we continue our little discussion earlier?"

Kenta looked up to see one of the three boys who had been discreetly mocking him. He was slightly taller than Monika, with short auburn hair, pale blue eyes that seemed to bear a permanently lazy look, and a handsome, pointed face. There was an air of intellectual superiority about him similar to the one Naoki possessed, telling Kenta that this was no junior club member. His arms were still folded across his chest as he gave Kenta a very short sideways glance.

"Oh, Kenta, allow me to introduce Takeo Kimura, from 4-A," said Monika, gesturing towards the boy. "He's the vice president of our club."

Takeo smiled. The gesture, however, did not reach his eyes—they stared rather coldly at him. "Charmed," was all Takeo said.

". . . Pleasedtameetcha," replied Kenta slowly. In spite of the usual greeting he often said to people he had just met, he felt anything but pleased at that moment.

"Kenta's a good friend of mine, and one of the people I know who love sports," Monika told Takeo. "That's why I thought he'd be able to help us with our data-gathering."

"Yes, I'm sure he'll do just fine," said Takeo. "Of course, it would've been better if we surveyed more official athletes instead of ordinary students, but still, a more common demographic wouldn't hurt. And I'm sure we'll be able to find some use for his . . . _insights_."

He said all of this with a pleasant tone that seemed to border on mockery, something that Kenta didn't fail to notice. Monika paused for a bit before speaking, as if she noticed the sardonic tone behind Takeo's voice as well. Instead of being suspicious, however, Monika seemed to take Takeo's tone as humoring. "Of course we'll be able to do that," she said. "That's what we'll do with the opinions we've gathered from everyone we've surveyed, right?"

"Of course, of course," he said lazily. "I'm in no place to judge your decisions, Monika. I'm just a little curious about why you chose _him _to take the survey."

_Him_. The way Takeo said the word irked Kenta further.

"Well, Kenta's a former basketball player in middle school, so I believe he has enough experience with what we're looking for," said Monika lightly. "Isn't that right, Kenta?"

"Yeah, that's right," Kenta replied. He glared determinedly at Takeo, who merely shrugged.

"I see." Takeo chuckled a little. "Anyway, whenever you're ready, Monika. The discussion?"

"Yes, yes," said Monika. With that, Takeo turned and made his way back to where he was standing earlier, not even giving Kenta another glance. Monika turned to Kenta and smiled. "Just give the papers to me when you're done, alright?"

"Sure," replied Kenta. As he watched Monika go back to her seat, he gave Takeo's back one more glare before he resumed answering.

* * *

Around ten minutes later, he was walking along the corridors with Monika, who seemed to be in a good mood. They had left behind most of the other debate club members after she had finished talking to the others. Kenta waited dutifully for her outside the clubroom, not wishing to stay for a minute longer in the same place with someone like Takeo.

"I hope our junior members win with the data we've gathered for them," said Monika as they walked. The corridors were now almost devoid of students, as nearly everyone else had gone on home already. "Thank you so much again for taking the time to participate in our survey, Kenta. It'll save us a lot of work in the future, especially since classwork is starting to pick up nowadays."

"My pleasure," said Kenta with a small smile. "I hope I wrote something worthwhile there for you guys to use," he added sheepishly.

"Oh, it's okay," said Monika, smiling. "I'm positive that you put in some interesting input for us!"

"I dunno about that, but I did put effort into it!" said Kenta. "I mean, it won't do if I just give you all half-baked opinions to go by, right?"

"Well, people often do that with surveys because they think the ones who made them won't put that much effort into reading what they have to say," Monika remarked. "Of course, that's not the case with us, so we definitely appreciate it if we get honest and serious answers instead of things like '_It's okay, I guess,_' or '_Keep it up._'"

"Don't worry, I made sure I didn't put anything like that," Kenta assured her.

Though Monika's presence gave his mood some relief, he still felt rankled at what happened earlier. Though very little words were spoken between him and the debate club's vice president, Kenta could feel just how much contempt and dislike Takeo had for him. As to why that is, however, he did not yet know.

"So, that Takeo guy is in 4-A, right?" he inquired. "If he's one year ahead of us, why's he just the vice president of your club?"

Monika looked at him. "Why, do you think I'm not a good club president?" she asked sternly.

"No, I didn't m-mean it like that!" said Kenta hastily, completely caught off guard by the gaze Monika was now giving him. "I just, uh, you k-know—"

"It's okay, I was just messing with you," said Monika, giggling as her eyes softened.

Kenta sagged with relief. "I thought I offended y-you there."

Monika laughed again before she went on. "When our former president chose the other club officers last year, Takeo and I were the candidates for vice president. I had slightly better academic credentials than he did, though, so I was given the position. When our president graduated, I was next in line for this year, so here I am now."

"I see," Kenta mumbled as the two of them descended down the stairs. "I didn't r-realize you were new to all t-this."

"Yeah, and it's pretty tough, just like I told you before." Monika let out a sigh. "It's nothing but politics and budget and all that jazz since I joined. The problem is that the debate club's one of the larger clubs in the school—those members you've seen so far are only just part of a group of about thirty or so. Because of this, there's always something to tackle and discuss, just like what Takeo and I were talking about earlier. It's really hard to take care of all this while I'm trying to maintain my grades, but of course, I can't back out, not when I'm already the president. They expect much from me. Everyone does."

As she spoke, her voice took on a sadder and more tired note, as if the weight of her duties as a model student and the debate club president began weighing down her very being tangibly. Kenta looked at her, noticing this change in her tone and feeling concerned.

"You d-don't have to take on everything on your own," he said. "You know that, right?"

"Yes, but . . . who knows, maybe I like shouldering everything alone without taking a break because I've grown so used to it all," Monika stated. "At this point, it's like a permanent part of my life now. I know that's not the case, but . . . it feels that way sometimes. I'm not someone who likes to complain, but like I said before, that doesn't mean I don't get tired of it all."

She slowed down her pace as she walked, letting out a sigh. "Ah, I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm complaining too much again," she said apologetically.

"No, I understand," Kenta told her. "Just remember that if you n-need any help, anything at all, you can always come to me, alright? It doesn't matter what it's about—I'll help you with it. I know that you're one of t-the best students in the school, but sometimes, even the b-best of us need help. Besides, we'll be able to work faster if we do it as a team, with no one left behind. That's one lesson I learned from sports, and it's something that I always keep in mind."

Monika smiled appreciatively at him. "Sometimes, you just keep surprising me with your wisdom, Kenta."

Kenta scratched his head, his face burning as it flushed. "W-Wisdom?"

"Yes, and don't you dare say that you don't have wisdom!" replied Monika amusedly, giggling a little at his reaction. "Wisdom doesn't have to be too philosophical or intellectual to be effective. I don't know if I've told you this before, Kenta, but your simple words can hold just as much meaning as the proverbs the world has."

"Ah, well, um . . . that's . . . thanks," said Kenta awkwardly, his blush deepening. Monika giggled again.

Soon, the two of them exited the school and walked along the smooth brick pathway leading to the gates. The late afternoon sun cast everything in a faint orange glow. Some students were still lounging around on the stone benches or underneath the trees that lined the pathway.

"So . . . are you excited for this Friday?" Monika asked him as they exited the gates and made their way towards the nearest waiting shed, where she would be waiting for her driver.

Kenta looked at her blankly. "This Friday?"

Monika pouted. "Our weekly hangout."

"Oh! Right, s-sorry about that," Kenta cried out, laughing nervously. Monika laughed alongside him. "Um, where d'you w-wanna go?"

"There you go again, Kenta," said Monika, pouting once more. "What did I say last time? It doesn't matter where we go as long as . . . ?"

Kenta let out an embarrassed sigh as he realized what she meant. "R-Right, it doesn't matter where we go—"

"—as long as I'm with you," Monika finished for him unexpectedly.

A sudden silence followed her words. Kenta stared at her, processing what she had just said in his mind. His face slowly grew hotter with every passing second as he dwelt on her statement. He felt his heart starting to race, thumping madly against his chest and nearly drowning out any noise from his hearing. Remarkably, Monika was starting to blush as well as she suddenly realized what she had just said out loud.

"I . . . Um, I mean . . ."

It was such a rare sight for Kenta to see Monika be this flustered. Her normally relaxed and cordial disposition was now tinged with bashfulness, causing her to struggle with her words. She looked as if she did not know whether to laugh or turn away or keep going. In a way, however, it made her look even more beautiful than she already was. It was as if Kenta was seeing another side of her that he didn't know even existed for such a confident and elegant girl.

"What I meant to s-say is that I really enjoy your company no matter where we go, and you know that, right, K-Kenta?" Monika stammered after a few more seconds of hesitancy.

". . . Y-Y-Yeah, I know," replied Kenta, wondering who among the two of them had the redder face right now. "Besides, t-that's how I feel as well."

With nothing else to say to one another, the two of them smiled at each other before looking away, opting to wait in silence for Monika's driver to arrive. Still, the light mood that followed Monika's surprising statement lingered palpably in the air between them. As far as Kenta was concerned, it was as if the negative experience he had earlier at the clubroom never happened. As long as he was with Monika, the world just seems to right itself.

_Daisuke's right. All this must mean something._


	20. Chapter 20 - Words of Amber

**CHAPTER TWENTY – WORDS OF AMBER (YuKi)**

The instructions were clear enough in Naoki's hearing. Most of the girls in the class and very few among the boys looked enthusiastic about it. Beside Naoki, Kenta sighed as he knew that he was obviously out of his element. To be fair, even Naoki was new to what their English professor was asking them to do. He had written many times before in the creative sense, sure, but a poem was something that he had never tried his hand at. As such, he went through his mind about all the different types of poems they had studied in class thus far—free verse, haiku, ode, elegy, and sonnet—and wondered which among these styles would fit his type of writing best.

"You will each be submitting your finished poems on Monday, no exceptions!" their professor called out as they drew near the end of their English class for today. "I suppose that'll be enough time for everyone to research which style they'll want to use and incorporate it into their poem. Of course, I don't need to tell you what'll happen to anyone who copying and turning in a poem straight from the internet. It doesn't have to be an instant classic, okay? Just do your best!"

Kenta leaned towards Naoki's seat. "Help me," he muttered through gritted teeth.

Naoki chuckled. "I think free verse is what you should try out, Kenta. I'll go with that as well."

"Is free verse the one where you get to write anything?" asked Kenta. "Can't I just try out that really short one?"

"A haiku, you mean? And technically, yes, free verse is free writing in a sense," replied Naoki. "A haiku is easy, but only if you have the correct number of syllables in the lines—five, seven and five—and if the lines make sense in a way. With free verse, though, you don't have to follow any rhyme schemes or number of syllables—you just have to convey what you wish to say. Just write creatively."

"_'Just write creatively,_' he says, like that's the easiest thing to do in the world," Kenta murmured.

"Well, just imagine that you're writing something that you'd like Monika to read," Naoki offered. "All that matters is that you're putting in your emotions and creativity in it, and that you're doing it in stanzas and lines, like song lyrics."

"That just made things a hundred times easier," Kenta grumbled sarcastically. "Ugh, alright, thanks anyway. I'll just see what I can cook up. Good thing we have 'til Monday to get this done. . ."

Once the class ended, their professor made their way out of the classroom, leaving 3-D to wait for the next class. Some students excitedly turned to one another to talk about what poems they would be making, while some opted to speak about other matters to distract from the nervousness they felt about such a project. In the meantime, Naoki turned to Yuri. To his surprise, she looked just as unsure as Kenta and some of their classmates.

"Interesting homework we're gonna be having, hmm?" he asked her.

Yuri nodded quaintly. "Y-Yes," she stammered, "very interesting, indeed. But I d-don't think some of our other classmates are looking forward to it."

Naoki nodded. He sensed that if Yuri would ever write a poem, she would turn in something elegantly verbose. Still, their homework would serve as another topic for another time, so he decided to shift gears. "Ready for later?"

Yuri looked at him. "O-Of course!" she said, her face brightening up.

After their first trip to _The Monocle_, Yuri had started to shed some of her introverted shyness around Naoki. Though she still stammered and fidgeted whenever she felt nervous or embarrassed, she was now more open in talking to him; there were even times when, in between classes, she would initiate a conversation with him first. It was very different from the times when Yuri would simply wall herself in with her books and thoughts, only opening the door to let Naoki in when asked to. Naoki felt glad about the idea that, gradually, Yuri was starting to feel that she could be herself without fear or worry in his presence. This soon affected their discussions about _The Portrait of Markov_, which were now more dynamic and engaging than ever, and though these developments came with Kenta's teasing and some knowing glances and nudges from a few of their classmates, Naoki wouldn't have it any other way.

Last night, the two of them had made plans through text to return to _The Monocle _to read and discuss once again over a cup of cappuccino. At first, Naoki sensed that it might be too much to ask for, since he might be getting on with things too quickly on what would be their third visit to _The Monocle _so far. However, Yuri surprised him by agreeing to his invitation with an excitement that he could almost perceive in her text message afterwards. It was still not a date in his mind; for all intents and purposes, Naoki felt like he was simply hanging out with Yuri to do what they always did as friends, and not to pursue anything else.

At least, that was what he was trying to make himself believe.

Saying out loud that he might be pursuing Yuri out of a special interest in her would earn Naoki more than a gleeful earful from Kenta and a shocked look from Daisuke. He preferred not to think of it that way most of the time; even in middle school, Naoki had never approached a girl and tried to be good friends simply because he had a crush on her—he was, after all, not like Kenta. Indeed, most of the female acquaintances he had today were good friends and nothing more. He tried to go out with a female schoolmate in the past only once, and even then, he had let go fairly quickly, figuring out later on that he was merely spurred on by the pangs of youthful emotions.

Yuri, on the other hand, felt like a different case. As time passed, he had begun taking note of her in a slightly different light—whether or not he was doing so consciously, however, was a question he couldn't answer. On one hand, Yuri was a gentle friend and an excellent literary confidante in spite of her characteristic introversion; it was this side of her that drew him to befriend her in the first place. On the other hand, however, she was also a refined, eloquent, and incredibly beautiful girl, and her withdrawn personality did little to mar the beauty and grace she undeniably possessed. Both aspects of her nudged Naoki to discover more about her as time passed.

He decided to focus instead on their _Monocle _hangout later. He made a mental note to make sure that he wouldn't forget to bring his copy of _Markov _like he did on their first visit, though he knew that reading from one copy side by side with Yuri wasn't bad; if anything, the experience was profound and—dare he say it—even a little stimulating. Though their second visit didn't include such an experience anymore, Naoki wondered when the next time that he would read in such a way with Yuri would repeat itself. The way the two of them coursed through the pages as if they were walking hand in hand in the world that Libitina lived in, their thoughts and emotions flowing and traveling as one, exploring and deciphering and analyzing in an exchange more earnest than one would perceive. . .

Naoki shook his head. If Kenta could read his mind, he knew that his buddy would be definitely cackling with pride and glee right now.

* * *

The rest of the day progressed normally enough, which was a welcome break in itself. Yesterday had been rougher than most of their school days so far, and with good reason: they had three quizzes and the start of their softball activities in Physical Education in a single day, a coincidence that Kenta cursed for the greater part of the day. Naoki managed to score well enough in the three quizzes even as P.E. gave him pause. Meanwhile, in spite of the rocky relationship she had with Physical Education, Yuri managed to harness some of her growing self-confidence as determination in tackling their softball activities; though she still paled in comparison to their other classmates, she was no longer as timid or mild-mannered as she was before when participating, and if she balked, Naoki always had some encouraging words to help her regain any lost confidence.

Dismissal time soon arrived, and with it came Naoki's enthusiasm for their _Monocle _trip. Once the two of them had packed their things, they made their way out of the school and into the streets, walking down the sidewalk towards the direction of downtown and _The Monocle_. Along the way, much like they did on their previous trips, the two of them talked casually about any topic that they could bring up. Some of their schoolmates were also making their way downtown alongside them, and they greeted them amiably as they passed.

Given that it wasn't Friday yet, there weren't as many people in _The Monocle _as Naoki expected. Because of this, the two of them managed to find a good seat next to the café's windows. They set down their bags and made their way towards the counter to order. Naoki went for the usual cup of cappuccino, while Yuri requested only a fresh cup of hot water; for something to eat, the two of them decided to try out some oatmeal cookies and chiffon cake.

"Why did you order only hot water?" asked Naoki when they had sat back down at their table.

"I've brought some oolong tea with me," replied Yuri. "I wanted to drink it instead of cappuccino for today—coffee drinks do not sit well with me sometimes."

As she spoke, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small box. She opened it, pulled out a single teabag, and dunked it into her cup, tugging at the teabag's string to the steep the leaves in the hot water. Naoki watched as the water slowly turned bright orange.

"That looks nice," he said. "I've never tried oolong before. Mostly, it's just green tea for me."

Yuri smiled bashfully. "You can try some the next time w-we come here. Or right n-now, if you want."

Naoki grinned back. "Well, I've already got my cappuccino ready. Maybe next time."

As Yuri waited for the oolong leaves to steep fully, the two of them took out their copies of _The Portrait of Markov_. Though the novel wasn't as long as the other ones they have read before in the past, Naoki found that they were taking it slow to digest every detail and nuance that the book was offering. As they read, the story was plunging deeper and deeper into a whole new level of horror, especially after the first big reveal: that the cult looking for Libitina had inextricably entwined religion and science together and created horrible human experiments in the facility that served as their hideout, all for reasons yet unknown. Some of the details were nauseating to read through; there were entire paragraphs dedicated to describing surgeries, mutilation and other inhumane forms of torture in order to subject human beings to the "projects" that the organization was trying to advance. Sometimes, chapters started out with excerpts from what looked like official medical and scientific reports showing whether or not a certain subject failed to pass its "transformation"—implying that they perished under either the physical or mental rigors of such callous tests.

The way _The Portrait of Markov _delivered such details made Naoki greatly appreciate the technical work that went into it, and he was sure that Yuri thought the same as well. Horror relied on keeping the audience on edge, anticipating the next moment or chapter with a mixture of curiosity and dread. It tugged at the senses, letting a person's mind do the work as it provided sights, smells and sounds that induced fear and anxiety. This aspect is what put horror novels above horror films in his opinion; often times, films delivered everything to the audience in a direct display that spared no detail, leaving little for the mind to fill in, but novels left it to a reader's imagination to decipher what a certain scene looked like, and sometimes, it was this kind of scrutiny that induced the most fear of them all.

For the next ten minutes or so, the two of them read in silence, punctuating it only to remark about a certain scene and discuss what is in it, as usual. An oatmeal cookie here, a forkful of chiffon there, in between sips of cappuccino for Naoki and oolong tea for Yuri, the session progressed normally. Sometimes, the two of them would catch each other's eye, and they would smile at one another as they realized how remarkable it was for them to be neck and neck in reading to the point of thinking about the same thing even if no words were spoken.

When they were done with their chapter goal, the actual discussion started. At this point, the two of them were starting to piece together why exactly Libitina had connections with the cult of antagonists that were after her, but they didn't want to discuss that part in depth yet lest they jump the gun regarding the plot. Instead, the two of them fawned over the unspeakable descriptive horrors that they had read about once again. Yuri, in particular, was positively over the moon about the experience that they brought, about the way they sent shivers down her spine and made her dread what was coming for Libitina. At length, she also discussed the gravity of combining the two unyielding forces of religion and science to indoctrinate people into joining a cult as twisted as the one in _Markov_.

Naoki checked his watch deep into their discussion and saw that it was only five-thirty. Given that they didn't have that much homework for tomorrow, he sensed that staying for a while longer at _The Monocle _wouldn't be too bad. "Do you still want to read some more for today? Or do you wanna go home?"

Yuri shifted in her seat. "That d-depends on you, Naoki. I'm fine with whatever you want."

"Well, maybe we can browse for something else to read at the bookshelves over there, hmm?" said Naoki with a smile. "I want to save _Markov _for tonight—I don't wanna get too far ahead and ruin the suspense we've been building up!"

"Y-Yes, I agree," said Yuri, smiling back. With that, she set aside her now-empty cup of tea and made to stow away her copy of _Markov _in her bag. As she did so, however, a piece of paper fell from the book's pages and flew to the floor next to Naoki's feet.

"Ah!" said Yuri.

"No worries, I've got it!" said Naoki. He leaned down and made to pick up the paper, but Yuri interrupted him in a slightly panicked voice.

"N-No, wait, t-that's—!"

Naoki stopped, his fingertips almost touching the paper now. "What is it?" he asked, puzzled.

Yuri nervously looked away, conflict evident on her face. "Um . . . I mean, you . . . um . . . you c-can . . ."

Naoki frowned, wondering what was causing her to go like this all of a sudden. So far, the only answer he could come up with was that the paper that fell from her copy of _Markov _was the culprit. He picked it up and took a glance at it.

The paper appeared to have been ripped straight from a composition notebook. On it, he saw Yuri's elegant cursive script; Naoki knew it was her handwriting from the times she had shared some of her notes in class and about horror novels with him. However, what surprised him the most was the group of words that Yuri had written.

_A . . . poem?_

For a few moments, he stared at them, only half-aware of what he was doing. It was only when he noticed Yuri starting to bury her face in her hands and whimpering a little that he realized just how panicky and embarrassed he was making her feel.

"Oh, I'm really sorry," he said quickly, setting down the paper on the table close to Yuri. "I didn't mean to look at it without your permission!"

Yuri shook her head. "No, it's o-okay," she said, her voice a bit muffled from her hands covering her face. "I d-didn't expect it to fall out from m-my book. It's rather embarrassing. . ."

"I'm sorry," said Naoki again, sighing. "I shouldn't have tried to read it if you didn't want me to."

"N-No, Naoki!" exclaimed Yuri imploringly, looking up. "I just wasn't expecting you t-to . . . um . . . see it like this. . ."

"I understand. The page just sort of fell out of your book, so I . . . you know. . ."

Silence crept in, broken only by the sounds of chatter and music inside _The Monocle_. Yuri's poem lay on the table between them. For a few moments, no one spoke or said a word, and Naoki feared that he may have caused Yuri to revert back to her socially awkward self within mere minutes.

Thankfully, his fears were for naught as Yuri spoke up to break the tension. "I'm sorry for . . . f-for overreacting a little, Naoki," she said quietly. "I was just caught off guard by it. I . . . I do write poetry, but I've never let anyone read my . . . m-my poems before."

"Oh, r-really? How come?"

Yuri played with her hair nervously. "I feel like it's not s-something worth sharing at all. . . For one thing, sharing that level of writing takes m-more than just confidence. Don't you agree? With something like a poem, it is more personal t-than just a story or an essay—it conveys emotions and sentiments, some of which are v-very personal things that you can never lie about. Why would anyone w-waste time reading something a-about me, right?"

She exhaled deeply, which Naoki always recognized as a gesture she always made when she calmed her nerves. "After all, the truest form of writing is writing to oneself. You must be willing to open up to any who will read your writing, exposing your vulnerabilities in the process and showing even the deepest reaches of your heart. I suppose I haven't reached that level of openness in sharing my poems just yet. . ."

Naoki looked at her poem once more. Again, he had no doubt that someone with Yuri's vocabulary and insights can be capable of writing some good poetry, so the fact that she had already been writing poetry for a long time now came as no surprise. As much as he wanted to take a more detailed look at what Yuri had written, he didn't want to do so unless Yuri actually said he could.

_Ah well, it can't be helped_. He smiled at her. "Don't worry, I understand. It's still remarkable, though. Not many people can write poetry well, let alone do it as a hobby. I'm a bit unsure myself on what I'm gonna be writing for our English homework. You, on the other hand, won't have much trouble with it, I'm sure!"

Yuri looked surprised. "But I'm s-sure you'll be able to write some excellent p-poetry, Naoki!"

Naoki shrugged, chuckling. "Who knows? Most of the time, essays and notes are what I write. I haven't tried my hand at the creative stuff instead. I mean, I've always been curious about writing my own horror novel, but I never get around to it."

"Oh, well, there's no harm in t-trying, I suppose," said Yuri. "After all, great writers started out m-merely practicing their talent at first. It takes years of experience to be able to g-get in stride with what you may be trying t-to write. Perhaps our h-homework will be the first instance that you can p-practice?"

"Maybe," said Naoki. "I guess I'll just figure it out when I get home."

Yuri paused for a moment, still looking unsure. Naoki could tell that there was a debate going on in her mind. She caressed her forearm; it was another mannerism of hers that he was starting to recognize more frequently now.

She blushed as she bowed her head. "Y-You can . . . read my poem if you w-want. . ."

Now Naoki was genuinely surprised. "W-What?"

Yuri closed her eyes, her face turning redder. "It's alright if . . . if y-you're the one who will read it. . . Maybe it can h-help you when you write your poem for English as well. . ."

"Help me w-with—" Naoki began, but Yuri jerked as if she had been hit by a sudden electrical shock.

"Ah! I didn't m-mean to sound conceited or a-anything, of course! I just t-thought that maybe it will h-help you get a . . . a feel of what to w-write!"

"No, it's f-fine, I didn't think you were boasting or anything," Naoki assured her. "I just, um . . . are you s-sure, Yuri?"

He wondered for a moment what it was that he was so unsure about when he had been thinking about reading Yuri's poem only moments ago. Perhaps it was the fact that, after what Yuri had said about writing conveying some of a writer's innermost thoughts and feelings, he felt that he might be intruding on something so personal, so private if he chose to read her poem. With someone who was as reserved with their emotions and thoughts as Yuri was, it was easy to understand how such a thing can be questionable.

As if she had read his mind, Yuri picked up her poem and held it out to him. "It's okay. . . If I'm ever g-going to show this to anyone first, it'll b-be you."

The admission surprised Naoki further. In his ears, it was so sincere, almost like . . .

He stopped himself. _No, nothing like that_. With a hand that trembled slightly from anticipative nervousness, he took the paper from Yuri's hand and glanced down at it.

Yuri's cursive script was exquisite enough already from what he had seen from her notes in the past, but to see them relay and convey words as personal as the ones he was now reading, they seemed to take on a new aura of pure sophistication.

"_Ghost Under the Light_

_The tendrils of my hair illuminate beneath the amber glow._

_Bathing._

_It must be this one._

_The last remaining streetlight to have withstood the test of time._

_The last yet to be replaced by the sickening blue-green hue of the future._

_I bathe. Calm; breathing air of the present but living in the past._

_The light flickers._

_I flicker back_."

Though the poem was short, Naoki could not stop himself from reading through every word consciously, almost mumbling them out loud in an effort to wrap his tongue and mind around the emotion and meaning behind them. Obviously, the poem was in free verse, but that did nothing to dampen the message behind it all, which Naoki was starting to figure out as he read. Much like what their English classes about poetry had taught them, Naoki began deciphering who and what the persona in the poem was, and what it was trying to tell the reader.

When he looked away from the poem to look at Yuri, he saw that she had buried her face in her hands once again. Beneath the curtain that her long purple hair provided, her ears were remarkably red. Quickly, he laid down the poem onto the table once more and cleared his throat, not wanting to pressure Yuri further by reading for a little while longer.

"It's . . . good, Yuri," he said. "I mean, really, I liked what you wrote there."

Slowly, Yuri came out of hiding from her hands, staring at him as if waiting for a catch or some criticism. Naoki couldn't help but be struck by how cute she looked in doing so. She stammered, "I'm s-sorry if my handwriting is t-terrible!"

He grinned reassuringly at her. "No, it's alright, Yuri. I'm used to reading script handwriting, so it's not that big of a deal. Anyway, yeah, it's a good poem."

"Y-You really think so . . . ?" asked Yuri.

"Sure!" said Naoki. "I mean, I'm not trying to sound like an expert on poetry or anything, especially since I haven't even written a single one yet, but I'm just comparing the prose from the novels I've read with what you have here. Um, have you encountered those lines in certain novels where one line just has you pause in your reading so you can stare into the distance and just . . . digest what you just saw?"

"Yes, I'm f-familiar with such an experience," said Yuri with a nod.

"And sometimes, the lines that make us do that tend to be the one-liners or what I call the 'one-worders,'" Naoki went on. "They're just one line made up of three or four words, or even just a single word, and yet they tell us a lot and pack a lot of punch. I think that your poem accomplishes that particular feat."

For emphasis, he pointed towards a specific part on her poem. "Like, right here, the line that just says '_bathing_.' It's just one word, and yet it allows the reader to start visualizing the persona basking in the light mentioned in the poem, painting quite a deep scene. And the last two lines—which I really, _really _like—allow the reader to cap things off with a profound way of conveying the poem's message. '_The light flickers_,' and then, '_I flicker back_.' It speaks of someone in a sort of . . . ethereal state, like the eponymous ghost, since the speaker possesses the ability to somehow flicker back like a light. I don't know if the speaker is actually a ghost, but I guess the imagery of being one is shown by how he or she doesn't feel particularly whole or grounded, like he or she is somewhere in between being complete and being fragmented. The poem gives off a general feeling of being . . . being detached from the world or . . . or something like that. . ."

As he kept speaking, his words slowed down a little as he realized the meaning behind the poem. As he stopped explaining, his mind wandered back towards Yuri's experiences—her timid and aloof personality, her social awkwardness, and the experiences she had that made her feel distant from everyone else. Only vaguely did he realize that he was now staring eye to eye with Yuri as he finished speaking his interpretation. It was another profound moment that made him feel an emotion that he had not quite experienced that much before.

"Y-Yes, the speaker is not a ghost per se," said Yuri quietly. "Rather, she is only symbolically compared to a ghost."

_She_. That told Naoki a lot. "I see . . ."

Silence prevailed for a few moments until Naoki decided to change the topic a little. "Well, at least you've got a poem ready for Monday," he said, taking on an affable tone to lighten things up. "I might get around to working on mine at home to save some time. Thanks for . . . for sharing your work, Yuri. It's gonna help me decide on what I'll go for."

"Actually, I'm thinking of c-changing mine a little. . ." Yuri admitted timidly.

"How come?" asked Naoki. "It's good enough on its own."

"I think there's . . . there's m-more that I can add to it," she replied, "or rather, there's more I _want _to add to it. For that, I want to be able to p-put in more emotion in it, to express what I'm trying to say in a more reflective w-way. Sometimes, I feel like I'm holding b-back on what I want to say, and I don't w-want that with this poem. I want this to be . . . special."

Naoki looked down at Yuri's poem again. How Yuri would make such a short but profound work more special than it already is, he did not know.

"Well . . . how about we help each other?"

Yuri looked at him. "What d-do you mean?"

"Let's write together," he said, "right here, right now. We still have time, right? Maybe we can get started on something good for Monday. We'll brainstorm a bit, and maybe it'll help you jog your mind about what you want to change for your poem. I can also ask you for some tips on what I need help with!"

Yuri blushed. "I'm n-not that good, Naoki," she said with a shy tone, but Naoki would have none of it.

"I find that hard to believe, Yuri," he said convivially. "At this rate, you know more about writing poetry than I do, especially from what I've seen so far. If I'm lucky, I can get comfortable with my poetic side sooner rather than later with your help. What do you think?"

"I . . ." Yuri paused for a moment, caressing her forearm once more. When she spoke again, she smiled. "I suppose I can h-help you. I'll do my b-best."

* * *

Monday came. As he reflected back on the past few days he had spent talking to Yuri through text about poetry, Naoki felt as if he had just stepped into another adventure that could provide just as much interesting experiences as reading and discussing _The Portrait of Markov _can bring. Though they didn't manage to finish whatever it was that they had started at _The Monocle _last week, they did get to polish everything up last night. His eagerness about exchanging poems with Yuri grew as each of their classes for today paved their way for their English class in the afternoon.

As his impromptu guide into writing poetry, Yuri had proven to be a gifted and insightful teacher indeed. Much like what happened during their discussions about literature, Yuri's shyness ebbed away almost instantly when she talked about something she was comfortable with and good at—in this case, it involved offering her knowledge about writing poetry. Though she was a bit reluctant at first to voice out his flaws as a beginner for fear of sounding too condescending or harsh, Naoki helped her by encouraging her to do so, pointing out that it would help him become better not just for their upcoming homework, but also in case he would try writing poetry again in the future. And so, with his openness, Yuri helped him to the best of her abilities, sharing different pointers about how a poem can be written and delivered properly, and how a poem's message and style should work together without being too deliberate.

Though the two of them didn't mention their own respective poems to each other yet for the day, Naoki was eager to see what changes Yuri had made to her poem. Through text, she had reiterated to him that the poem was to be a very special one indeed, with more hope and positivity instead of the emptiness that the previous version possessed. In spite of his excitement, Naoki refrained from asking her about anything as per their deal at _The Monocle_, and the only glimpses he got from Yuri were the bits and pieces she decided to share with him through text messages.

By some sort of miracle, Kenta pulled through with a two-stanza free verse poem instead of a haiku, stating that he had some "help" in writing. Though Naoki wanted to see what his best friend might have written, Kenta was adamant in keeping his work hidden even if Naoki offered to share his with him.

"You got three paragraphs, alright?" said Kenta grumpily. "I only got two."

"They're called stanzas, Kenta. Besides, it doesn't have to be about that or rhyme schemes or whatever, remember?" said Naoki. "It's all about putting your own flair and emotion on paper."

Kenta, however, wouldn't budge. "You don't have to look at my poem to know that that's exactly what I did. Now beat it!"

"Fine, fine," said Naoki with a laugh.

As their English class went underway later that day, their professor started things off by giving a surprise stipulation with the air of addressing elementary school children for an upcoming parlor game: random students would be called to share their poems to the class. At this, many of the students in the class let out audible groans and other similar exclamations of anxiousness, with Kenta being one of the loudest. Even Naoki was struck with a bit of nervousness, wondering how exactly the rest of the class would react to his first ever poem. The one who looked to dread the sharing part most, however, was Yuri—she paled in her seat and broke out in a cold sweat as she heard their professor's announcement.

_I guess private sharing's no longer an option_.

One by one, their professor called names from the class list, and those who were called stood up to read their poems aloud. Those who were called looked resigned and spoke as clearly and confidently as they could, and Naoki took this time to listen to what themes they had prepared. His own poem was a take on the ups and downs of high school life, and the joys of sharing experiences with friends such as Daisuke, Kenta and Yuri. Some of their classmates had gone for a more creative and comfortable approach through general themes like nature and the world, but those who appeared more anxious than most had chosen personal themes like childhood and love. Once a reciter finished narrating his or her poem, students gave some polite applause. As he clapped along with them, Naoki was thankful that they weren't required to actually go to stand up front and deliver their poems there, but his anxiety wasn't that relieved even if his chosen theme wasn't too private. On both sides of his seat, Yuri and Kenta were showing visible signs of distress about coming close to being called upon randomly; Kenta kept fidgeting and shifting nervously in his seat, while Yuri was gripping her forearm so firmly that she could see her hand trembling from how tightly she was holding onto it.

As the last person was about to be called, Naoki felt Kenta and Yuri draw their collective breaths, as if they were waiting for a particularly nasty verdict to be laid down before them. Even Naoki felt his heart race as their professor looked over the class list, evidently giving some close thought about who the last poetic speaker for today would be.

"Miss Hoshino."

As the call rang out, Naoki didn't know how to react. Next to him, Yuri appeared to be utterly petrified now; she sat so still in her chair that he wondered for a moment if she was still breathing. Curiously, some of their classmates turned in their own seats to look at her, and Naoki knew that this would only add to her general embarrassment.

To help encourage her, he leaned towards her seat to say some words of support, but Yuri stood up before he could do anything. The look on her face was unfathomable, but Naoki could see a look of slight determination gleaming in her purple eyes, as if she had anticipated being the last student called and was now ready to take the plunge instead of retreating and making everything more awkward than it should be. Breathing calmly, she reached for her notebook and turned it towards the page where her poem was written. Naoki held his breath as he watched her prepare. When she spoke, her voice was both serene and poised, pausing at every line to let the words register on everyone's minds clearly. Slowly but inexorably, the more Yuri spoke, the more she seemed to change in Naoki's eyes. It wasn't the same type of determination she showed back at that memorable P.E. class they had, nor was it the same as the confidence she showed whenever she spoke about something she liked or was good at. Rather, it was emotion given form and voice, pure and wholesome.

"_Ghost Under the Light_

_The tendrils of my hair illuminate beneath the amber glow._

_Bathing._

_In the distance, a blue-green light flickers._

_A lone figure crosses its path_—_a silhouette obstructing the eerie glow._

_My heart pounds. The silhouette grows. Closer. Closer._

_I open my umbrella, casting a shadow to shield me from visibility._

_But I am too late._

_He steps into the streetlight. I gasp and drop my umbrella._

_The light flickers. My heart pounds. He raises his arm._

_Time stops._

_The only indication of movement is the amber light flickering against his outstretched arm._

_The flickering light is in rhythm with the pounding of my heart._

_Teasing me for succumbing to this forbidden emotion._

_Have you ever heard of a ghost feeling warmth before?_

_Giving up on understanding, I laugh._

_Understanding is overrated._

_I touch his hand. The flickering stops._

_Ghosts are blue-green. My heart is amber._"

As Yuri finished speaking in that solemnly serene voice, not looking at anything or anyone as she spoke, silence fell for a few short moments. Some of their classmates began to clap as they did for those who recited before her, but Naoki was far too occupied in digesting the meaning behind her poem to do anything. He listened to every word, almost enraptured, and felt the weight behind what was said and conveyed. Yuri's voice was tinged with passion, yet it was nothing too overwhelming and also nothing too subdued. Much like with what she had taught him about poetic style and theme, the way she spoke was so perfectly balanced, just enough for Naoki to be drawn in. For a while, he stared as Yuri sat back down in her seat, and the aura that had radiated around her as she spoke seemed to subside gradually, but that did nothing to stop Naoki from thinking about what she just showed.

_So that's what she meant by "special."_

If their classmates had reacted in a similar way as Naoki did, they did not show it. Most of them heaved sighs of relief at the fact that they had dodged their professor's bullets this time around. Once everything had simmered down and their professor asked them all to pass their poems, Naoki glanced over at Yuri. As if she sensed his gaze, she turned her head over to him. Her cheeks turned red, but she didn't look away, and neither did he. It was a new page, a new chapter ready to be explored, with Yuri's poem being the key that opened it all. Naoki was nervous, but he sensed that there might be no need for him to feel so.

Timorously, she returned the smile he gave her. No words were spoken; right now, there was no need for them.


	21. Chapter 21 - Read My Feelings

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – READ MY FEELINGS (MoniKenta)**

Kenta stared for a long time at his cellphone, trying to fully wrap his mind around the words that Monika had sent him around fifteen minutes earlier through text. With each passing second, his heart beat faster and his face grew warmer as he waited by the school entrance, even if he was just staring at his cellphone's screen. For a moment, he wondered whether he was hungry or sleepy to the point of being unable to think straight, but that was not the case. His eyes weren't deceiving him.

"_my house, we'll go together. is that okay with you?_ :)"

Monika had done him a favor by not keeping their new hangout place a secret when he had asked her about it only moments earlier. Now, however, he wondered whether it was bad that she told him outright where the two of them would be spending the rest of their day together. After what happened during their last meetup, Kenta sensed that nothing could ever top going to the movies with Monika until this happened. Instead of choosing one of the many places downtown that they know about, however, Monika invited him to come over to her place this time.

Kenta understood what Monika meant about the place for their meetups not being important, but this was on a whole new level for him. The mere fact that Monika seemed to feel comfortable enough to invite him over to her house told him many things already. Compound that with their accidental exchange just a couple of days ago at the waiting shed, and Kenta's brain was close to sagging with both anxiety and anticipation about where his friendship with Monika was going.

The shock of all this was enough to even distract him momentarily from the cheesy homework they were given for English, which was to write a poem. Naoki had been rather vague about suggesting what he should do, though Kenta knew that wasn't exactly his best friend's fault. Then again, Naoki's suggestion that he should write something that Monika would read didn't help ease his mind either, especially now that this happened.

Monika had told him that she would be tidying up a few things at their clubroom first; afterwards, the two of them would go together to her house. Kenta swallowed anxiously. Never in his wildest dreams thus far did he expect to ever go to Monika's place, even if it may have involved schoolwork or something more formal than a hangout. Back when the two of them were classmates during their freshman year, they settled any schoolwork or other such matters at school only. Then again, so much has changed since then.

He was still deep in thought and worry when Monika arrived, looking slightly harried. Concern immediately laced Kenta's voice as he asked, "Hey, are you okay?"

Monika managed to give him a small smile. "Yeah, just a bit stressed out from a few things at the club," she said. "Takeo was being pretty testy on everyone, and I had to put my foot down."

The thought of someone like Takeo giving Monika more trouble than she already needs rankled Kenta's mood. "What's he doing that for?"

Monika waved her hand dismissively. "Just a few things that we didn't agree on, about the club and stuff," she replied. "He can be too much when he's stressed out."

"Even so, he shouldn't be taking it out on you guys," Kenta remarked.

"I agree. That's why I had to put him in his place. Ugh, sometimes I just . . ."

Kenta looked at her as the two of them walked down the path towards the school gates. "Um . . . if you're not up to it, then maybe we can . . . reschedule our hangout for today?"

"No!" said Monika hastily. When she went on, she toned her voice down a little. "It's alright, I'm fine. I just . . . I just need to stop complaining. I mean, it's not like I haven't had days like this one before," she added, letting out a short laugh.

Kenta wasn't entirely convinced, though. He kept staring at her with concern. When Monika noticed this, she patted his arm. "It's alright, Kenta. Days like this happen. I just have to move on and . . . and keep going."

To his credit, Kenta didn't flinch or shy away from her hand. "Well, okay. But don't forget what I said, alright? If you need help on anything, just . . . just tell me."

Monika squeezed his arm gently. "You're helping me more than you think, Kenta."

* * *

Around five minutes later, the two of them were seated comfortably in the back of Monika's family car. Kenta was secretly adamant at putting at least several inches of distance between him and Monika, but there were times when Monika closed that gap to pat his arm or place a hand on his shoulder as they talked. In spite of his nervousness, Kenta felt more than happy and carefree during the ten-minute drive. His anxiety came flooding back, however, when the car slowed down in front of the black iron gates that flanked the whitewashed fence walls around Monika's house. Kenta looked through the tinted windows and checked out the surroundings as the car drove past the gates and into the driveway.

When they pulled up in front of the garage, Monika's aged driver Fujita turned off the car, left the driver's seat and dutifully opened the passenger side door to let the two of them out. As soon as he got out of the car, Kenta was almost mesmerized by the sights around Monika's place.

The house was built with a mixture of traditional and contemporary designs, and was definitely larger than most houses he had encountered. Its roof was made of dark brown slate, which complemented the cream-colored walls perfectly well. The windows were larger than traditional ones, often spanning almost the entire height of the walls they were built in, and the glass panes were tinted with a pale grey color and surrounded by black frames. The eaves that lined up the top of the walls were decorated with chiseled dark brown oak, and the doors leading inside were made of gleaming chestnut and inlaid with smaller glass panes that bore the same color as the windows. The driveway and the path leading to the gates were made of smooth, pale orange bricks, and the edges were flanked at intervals with little garden lights designed to illuminate the area during nighttime. A freshly mown lawn surrounded the entire house, with some sections of it housing flowery shrubs, potted plants and small trees, giving the place the remaining segments of different colors it needed to complete its aura of sophisticated beauty.

Kenta followed Monika and Fujita as they made their way to the front door, looking around at the place like a child who had gotten lost in an amusement park. Like with the car door, Fujita opened the front door for them, and once again, Kenta felt awestruck as he saw the house's interior.

Everything was dominated by white walls and smooth wooden floors. Warm-colored carpets were nestled in between matching furniture, and the walls were lined with both modern art and contemporary wall light sconces. Even the ceiling, which was very high up, bore fashionable glass chandeliers at certain places, providing more light overhead. Though there were doors leading to other parts of the house, there were no walls that separated the living room from the kitchen and dining area; everything was laid out smoothly in a flat expanse more or less, allowing one to walk freely around the house. Lastly, on one corner sat the staircase leading up to the second floor, with glass panes and metal serving as banisters for both the stairs and the overhang that loomed above the ground floor.

"Just stay here for a while, okay?" said Monika, pointing towards one of the black cushioned lounge chairs in the living room. "I'll just go talk to Mrs. Fujita about dinner, and then I'll be going upstairs to drop off my things."

"S-Sure thing!" said Kenta. As Monika went through one of the doors next to the kitchen area, Kenta sat down on a lounge chair, setting his backpack down next to him. As he waited, he glanced around the house to take in what he didn't manage to see properly before, and he began registering in his mind the truth of everything that was happening right now. Indeed, he was as overwhelmed by the idea of being invited in Monika's house as he was being fascinated by how beautiful the entire place was.

Monika soon reentered the kitchen area and made her way upstairs. After a few seconds, the kitchen door opened a third time, and in walked a bespectacled older lady with greying hair, a dress of pale pink and a white apron tied over it. Kenta mused that this must be Mrs. Fujita, the housekeeper. When she saw Kenta, she smiled and said politely, "Good afternoon, sir."

Kenta smiled back. "Good afternoon, ma'am."

"I take it you're one of Miss Monika's friends from school?" asked Mrs. Fujita as she opened one of the cupboards in the kitchen to take out a few things.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Kenta.

"Perhaps you're the one she mentioned earlier today," she went on. The clinking of pots and pans echoed from the kitchen area as she worked. "She said she'd be bringing over a friend after school."

Kenta felt even more nervous now. Then again, it was better than arriving without anyone in the household knowing. "Y-Yes, I suppose so, ma'am."

Mrs. Fujita adjusted her glasses as she looked at Kenta. "Pardon me for asking, young man, but . . . are you Miss Monika's boyfriend?"

Heat coursed through Kenta's face as he blushed. "Ah, um . . . er, I'm . . . I mean, I'm n-not—"

"Don't worry, son, there's no harm in that," said Mrs. Fujita genially, letting out a little laugh as she whisked some eggs together in a stainless steel bowl. "It's just that you're the first boy that she's ever brought over here. She usually comes here with a group of friends, but never with a single person."

"Ah, I see," said Kenta nervously. This additional piece of information joined his anxiety in an instant. "Well, I'm j-just a friend of hers from school, that's all, ma'am."

"A _really_ good friend of mine, let me tell you that, Mrs. Fujita."

Monika's amused voice rang from the stairs, making Kenta look up. As he did so, his breath was instantly taken away.

Monika was still in her school outfit, but she had taken off her jacket and left only the brown sweater vest and white shirt that they all wore as part of their uniforms, with the sleeves rolled back to show more of her forearms. The most glaring detail, however, was the fact that she had removed her favorite white ribbon and let her long brown hair down; having been used to seeing her hair tied up in a ponytail, Kenta found the sight of her with long hair extremely new, making her look vastly different in his eyes, though not necessarily in a bad way. If anything, it made her look even more elegantly beautiful.

Mrs. Fujita smiled. "I can tell. Is he the one that you've been meeting downtown after school for the past weeks, Miss Monika?"

"Yes, Mrs. Fujita," replied Monika cheerfully. "For a change, I decided that we could spend some time here instead of downtown for the week. I hope I didn't catch you off guard with that, Kenta," she added, glancing over to him.

Kenta snapped out of his trance as he realized that he was staring. "D-Don't worry about it, it's alright with me," he told Monika. "You . . . Um . . ."

Monika beamed as she reached the foot of the stairs. "It's my hairdo, isn't it?" she asked, giggling a little as she stroked her hair delicately.

"Y-Yes, but it's okay," Kenta stammered. "You look g-good like that."

Monika blushed. "Well, it does feel good to let my hair down when I get home, both literally and figuratively!" she remarked happily.

* * *

To pass the time, Kenta decided to help Monika prepare dinner alongside Mrs. Fujita. Though he was unfamiliar with kitchen work, he wanted to make himself more useful by fetching what was needed and helping keep watch of what was being cooked. Monika, who seemed familiar with how things worked more or less, was helping Mrs. Fujita cut up some ingredients and measure the seasonings required with extra aplomb—Kenta sensed that she really was happy right now, and he felt relieved that she was now feeling better after the tiredness she was showing earlier when they left school together. Soon, the kitchen was surrounded by the enticing smells of vegetable soup, stir fried eggplants with garlic and ginger, and chicken karaage. Kenta still felt nervous about the idea that they were also cooking these dishes for him and not just for Monika or anyone else, but Monika assured him that it was all fine, and that he deserved hospitality as much as any visitor did.

Mrs. Fujita took her leave of them when everything was cooked, taking with her some of the food for her and her husband at Monika's insistence when she politely declined to join them in eating. Once Mrs. Fujita had left, the two of them set about preparing what they would need to start eating, setting down plates and small bowls on the glass-topped dining table that stood some distance away from the kitchen area. All of the remaining chicken karaage was given to Kenta; Monika, who followed a vegetarian diet, chose to eat only the vegetable soup and stir-fried eggplants.

"I wish she'd stayed to eat along with us," said Monika as she sat down. "I invite her and Mr. Fujita to eat with me whenever I could, because . . . well, I eat alone around here most of the time."

Kenta nodded, remembering her home situation. "It does make you feel lonely after quite a while, eh?" he stated, spearing a piece of chicken with a fork.

"Oh, you have no idea," said Monika. "No matter how much I insist, the household helpers we have never join me in eating. Mr. and Mrs. Fujita are the only ones that accept because they've been around for a long while, but even then, it's only at my request."

"Household helpers? But the house seems to be . . . empty," Kenta remarked.

"I always give them the evenings off," said Monika, joining him as she scooped some eggplants onto her plate. "I mean, there's not much work to be done around here since there's so very few of us here, and I don't want them tiring themselves out by helping me with every little thing that needs to be done. I'm totally okay with cleaning by myself and preparing my own things for school. If my parents were here, it would be a lot more different, but . . . they're not here."

She said all this with a hint of sadness in her voice. Kenta looked at her for a moment. "How . . . How are they?"

Monika shrugged. "They're fine, I guess. They haven't called again yet since that one time, but my mom did send me a text message earlier this week. It wasn't anything special, though."

"I see. . ." Not wanting to make things gloomy, Kenta decided to change the topic. He racked his mind for something good to talk about until he remembered what happened at their English class earlier.

"That reminds me. We've been given some pretty . . . 'unique' homework for English."

"Oh, really?" said Monika as she chewed some eggplant. "What is it about?"

"We're gonna be writing a poem or something."

The look in Monika's dazzling emerald-colored eyes changed instantly—they seemed to shine with both curiosity and surprise, though Kenta didn't exactly know why. When Monika spoke again, her voice sounded amused again.

"Your English professor's Mrs. Takahashi, right?" she asked. "She often digs giving homework like that. Ours is Professor Nakamura, so we get different homework."

"Yeah, it's Takahashi alright," replied Kenta. "I'm actually a bit nervous about it."

"How come?"

"Poems and all. Never read that many, and never ever tried writing one before."

Monika paused. "Not even for a girl?"

That made Kenta pause as well. "Well, n-no. Do guys still do that? Like, impress a girl they like using a poem?"

"Some might call it old-fashioned, but personally, I'd find it rather sweet," said Monika, smiling. "It takes a whole lot of courage and inspiration to write a poem, let alone write it for someone."

All of a sudden, Kenta was hit with the urge to write a poem for Monika, even if he had no earthly idea how. "You're right about that. My buddy said something like that as well." _About how I should just try writing something that I'd like her to read_.

A few moments of silence followed, during which Monika chewed her food daintily, looking unexpectedly cute in the process. It was during moments like this when Kenta could never look away from her resplendent glamor, making him blush as he ate. When Monika spoke again, however, just like how she had caught him off guard by letting her hair down, her words startled him once again.

"Writing poetry is a good hobby to get behind. It helps me relieve some of the stress I build up at school and at . . . at home."

Now Kenta really couldn't stop himself from staring. "Wait, you . . . you write poetry?"

Monika giggled. "Yes, actually. Surprise!"

"Wow," Kenta breathed. Given how smart Monika was, it seemed obvious that she would have writing as a hobby, but even then it still seemed like a shock to him. "I . . . I just didn't figure you for a poet or s-something!"

"I wouldn't call myself a full-fledged poet or anything, though," said Monika. "I just write poems during my spare time. Nothing too formal or fancy—mostly just free verse. I don't write instant classics, and I don't follow genres like odes or sonnets."

"You and me both," said Kenta, laughing. "But seriously, if you can write poems and stuff, you ought to ace this homework if it's ever given to you guys. As for me, I ain't so sure."

Monika grinned. "I suppose you're not at all familiar with writing creatively."

Kenta nodded. "I mean, I can write papers for class, sure, or else I'll be flunking my subjects again if I couldn't, but the creative stuff's not exactly my specialty. The first things that pop up in my mind whenever I hear the word 'poem' are either just two things: that every poem begins with 'roses are red,' or that most poems in history were written by good ol' Bill Shakes."

"You mean William Shakespeare?" asked Monika in between more giggles. "Well, thanks to you, I might have to start calling him 'Bill Shakes' from now on. But yes, it can be rather intimidating to learn about how to write a good poem, especially when the only things you know about poetry involve the classics or those taught in school. I've been through this experience before when I was just starting to write poems."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. At first, I tried sticking to what the great poets did by emulating their style and imagery, but it was very difficult. I found myself erasing entire stanzas out over and over, trying to make them sound perfect like how they did it. The result is that I never got anywhere. I ended up feeling rather sad because it felt like I was simply horrible at it. But as time passed, I realized that I didn't need to set the bar that high up, and that I didn't need to imitate what the great ones did. What I needed was to work at my own pace and on my own style, because if I kept comparing myself to really good poets and bringing myself down whenever I couldn't do what they did, I would never be able to improve.

"I guess that applies to all things in life," Monika went on. "You need to discover yourself first, and keep in mind that greatness never comes naturally. People aren't born great, after all, so that's what I did. I stopped following certain styles to the letter and experimented to see where I was most comfortable with. Before I knew it, writing poetry came more smoothly for me, and I was able to let my writing flow."

A short silence followed, during which Monika cleared her throat. "I seemed to have droned on a bit there," she said amusedly. "Let's just call that 'Monika's Writing Tip of the Day,' hmm?"

Kenta laughed. "Well, you're right about everything. I mean, that's basically one of the ideas that I like to live by. When I was still a dunce back in middle school, I didn't put much thought in improving myself, so when the time came for me to choose between doing better and being expelled for flunking, I almost went nuts trying to save what I could. I kept comparing myself to the better students in class, like Naoki, and I often felt bad for myself for not being as smart as they were."

"But you bounced back," said Monika.

"Yeah, I figured that I didn't need to be as smart as them. I just had to work hard and keep working hard at my own pace. Just like in sports, I decided to take things through practice, one step at a time. In the end, I saw that I was actually better than I was before, and even though I wasn't a top student or anything, I still felt good about it."

Monika smiled at him. "That's definitely something you can be proud of, Kenta."

Kenta grinned, blushing. "Yeah, I suppose it is."

As the two of them ate in silence for some moments, Monika spoke again. "Tell you what. If you want, I can help you get started with your poem after we eat. Are you fine with that?"

Kenta stopped chewing, looking dumbfounded. "W-Wait, what? Um, isn't it a bit early for that?"

"Maybe," replied Monika, "but at least that'll be one less thing for you to worry about over the weekend, right?"

"Ah, w-well, I guess y-you're right," said Kenta. Knowing Monika's knack for being diligent regarding anything about schoolwork, he saw nothing wrong in what she suggested. What made him nervous, however, was the fact that she might be monitoring whatever he would be writing—regardless of what the theme of his work would be, the idea of a relatively more experienced poet like her perusing his first attempt at poetry made him feel rather terrified. Then again, there was no way he would be able to refuse her, not with that beautiful smile of hers.

When the two of them finished eating, Kenta helped Monika clean up by collecting their dirty dishes and stowing them away in the nearby dishwasher to be cleaned. Once they were done, Monika invited him to spend the remainder of their day together in the entertainment room upstairs. Seeing that there wasn't exactly anywhere else in the house for them to go to, Kenta followed her dutifully.

The entertainment room was a mixture of modern and traditional amenities: there were more cushioned lounge chairs and a black sofa sitting in front of a wall-mounted flat-screen T.V. next to a large stereo, but there were also wooden chairs, end tables with lamps and other ornamental decorations, and shelves lined with numerous leather-bound books. At the room's farthest corner sat a grand piano, its black sheen gleaming against the ceiling lights that Monika turned on as he entered.

Because he had left his school things downstairs, Monika went back to her room and returned shortly with a composition notebook and a pen for him to use. She went over to the sofa where Kenta was sitting and placed the notebook and pen on the small glass table in front of them. Afterwards, she turned to him and said in a confidently professional manner, "First things first. What kind of theme do you want to go with?"

Kenta stared blankly at nothing in particular for the next few seconds, thinking. "Um, I don't think I have anything for that yet."

Monika paused, thinking as well. "Well, how about this: if you're going to be talking about something that you want to show someone, whether it's about your feelings or your interests or your experiences in life, what would that be?"

"Uh, well . . . I don't know exactly what to show someone that they don't know already," replied Kenta. "I'm loud, I get angry really fast sometimes, I'm a dunderhead at a lot of things, and I like to joke around. But I don't think there's a lot of interesting stuff that I can put in a poem about those kinds of things."

Monika laughed a little. "If you want to try, you can actually make something like that work. But I guess something else would be better for now, because it'd be good if your first poem packed a mean punch! Hmm . . . Okay, I have an idea."

"What is it?"

Monika didn't immediately reply. Kenta watched as she picked up her composition notebook, stared at it for a short while, and smiled. "Imagine that there's a certain person who's really . . . special in your heart. Imagine that you're facing them right now, and there are a lot of things that you want to tell them, but you can't because you have no idea how. If you're given the chance to tell them how in your own way, what would you say, and how would you say it?"

Kenta fell silent. If anything, it was already very obvious what words he would say and to whom he would say them to—he just didn't know whether he would be able to say them even through the written lines of a poem. For one thing, the fear of being rejected was still there, and while his inkling about how Monika saw him as more than a friend may be getting stronger thanks to their interactions over the past month, he still dreaded the idea of expecting too much and scaring her off because of it. Naturally, he didn't want to assume that he was only hanging out with Monika just to date her—he was, after all, no longer in middle school—but he couldn't stop his feelings from growing the more he learned about her.

He stared deep into Monika's dazzling eyes, knowing that he needed to say something in reply. He decided to play it safe first. "Y-Yeah, I know what you m-mean, but I . . . I don't think I can find the right w-words for that at the moment," he said lamely.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Y-Yes. . ."

He blinked. Were his eyes just playing tricks, or did Monika suddenly look . . . _disappointed_?

The expression was gone in a heartbeat, but it lingered over Kenta's vision like an afterimage brought about by a blinding light. All business, Monika carried on, putting her notebook down. "I see. Well, I suppose we need to find some other way—"

"N-No, wait!"

Monika stopped as he did, looking mildly startled. A ringing silence followed his exclamation. In his ears, his heartbeat rang deafeningly, as if it was the loudest sound in the universe right now. All of his thoughts and emotions screamed in defiance to his hesitation the moment he saw that saddened look on Monika's face. Whether or not he had just imagined it, he had no idea, but Kenta knew that there was no turning back without making things awkward or without adding more to Monika's puzzlement and the disappointment he saw her display.

_Man up, Kenta._

"Alright, I'll be honest. But . . . it's gonna be a b-bit embarrassing."

Monika kept staring at him, her expression unfathomable this time. Nonetheless, she kept quiet and waited for him to say what it was that he should be saying. Readying himself, Kenta took a deep breath and spoke very seriously.

"The thing is . . . back then, if I ever said stuff like this to a girl that was really special to me, I'd just do it without thinking. I'll say that I like her, and that if she wanted, I could be her boyfriend. Looking back at it, I feel pretty embarrassed about it all," he admitted with a nervous laugh, "and if I ever did that today, I'd probably die from the cringe I'd feel. This time around, though, if I'll ever t-tell the girl I like how I felt about her, I know it'll be different. It'll be special, just like she is. . . I'll tell her that . . . t-that . . ."

Instead of continuing, Kenta coughed a little, trying to get the words out of the traffic jam in his throat. He balled his hands into fists, knowing that every second he spent delaying what he should be saying is making things even more awkward. _I need to keep going. I have to._

A sudden feeling of warmth enveloped his right fist, stopping his breath for a fleeting second. He looked down and saw Monika's hand atop it, her slender fingers curled lightly against his knuckles.

"It's okay. Keep going," she told him.

Slowly, Kenta unfurled his hand, which quivered beneath Monika's touch. Overcome with both apprehension and excitement, he plunged in gracelessly.

"Monika . . . you know what I'm t-talking about, right?" _And who._

Seconds passed, but it felt like eternity in his mind, an eternity during which the fate of his world teetered perilously over a precipice.

As if she had read his mind about the part of his question that he left out, Monika said quietly, "Yes, Kenta. I know."

Gazing downwards, he let out a defeated sigh. Defeated, because he knew that whether he liked it or not, things would be changing from here on out. This was definitely it—the point of no return. Whatever Monika's next words would be, there was no taking back the implied meaning of what he had said thus far.

Instead of speaking, however, she stood up. Kenta got up along with her, and when he did, she guided him by the hand towards the piano in the corner of the entertainment room. He wondered for a moment what she would be doing until she let go of his hand to sit down in front of the piano. She lifted the cover off of the piano's keys, breathing deeply and flexing her fingers like she was preparing for a performance in front of an actual audience.

_Wait, she can play the piano?!_

"I want you to listen to something, okay? It's something I've been working on for a while now. It's not done yet, but . . . well, just listen to it!" she said with a giggle.

With that, she positioned her hands atop the piano keys, letting her fingers hover above them. Kenta stared at her, too dumbfounded to move or speak as he digested the idea that Monika can both write poetry _and_ play the piano. Though piano music wasn't exactly a favorite of his, he found it rather relaxing at times, and he was more than willing to listen with his undivided attention if Monika was the one playing. For a few moments, Monika muttered under her breath and tapped at a few keys like a radio DJ doing a sound check, presumably trying to remember what notes she would be playing.

When she started playing for real, the first few notes made Kenta's eyes widen. The song's rhythm played on a slower pace, as if Monika was trying not to play too fast and mess up in the process, but she hit one note after another without any trouble, letting out a melodious tune that rang clearly against the walls of the entertainment room.

All of a sudden, Monika began to sing as she played. Kenta felt his heart beat faster as the piano's eloquent notes and her beautiful voice started working together in perfect harmony.

"_Every day, I imagine a future where I can be with you._

_In my hand is a pen that will write a poem of me and you._

_The ink flows down into a dark puddle,_

_Just move your hand, write your way into his heart._

_But in this world of infinite choices,_

_What will it take just to find that special day?_

_What will it take just to find . . . that special day_?"

And with that, Monika finished playing. The spell of her music, however, lingered for a few seconds longer on Kenta's ears and mind. Monika brushed away a lock of hair from her face and turned to Kenta, giggling nervously.

"That was a song that I started working on during vacation," she stated. "Like I said, it's nowhere near done yet, but I'm planning on getting back to it sometime soon."

At last, Kenta found his voice again. "It's . . . r-really nice." he said. "I mean, if you composed that all by yourself, that's really impressive."

Monika shook her head. "Are you sure you're not saying that just to make me feel good about it?" she asked jokingly.

"No!" Kenta blurted out. "I mean, really, it was good! I was just s-surprised to learn that you can play the piano and w-write songs like that."

"Well, to tell you the truth, not many people know that I can play, just like how they don't know I write poems," said Monika, carefully closing the piano's cover. "Just a few of my friends and my parents know about it—Mom was the one who got me into it when I was still a kid, because she used to play as well. But none of them know that I wrote a song like that."

"Then w-why did you let me hear it?" asked Kenta nervously.

"Remember what I asked you to do? About telling someone special how you feel about them? I wanted to show someone special how I feel about them."

_What the . . . ? _"But I'm n-not someone special," he said almost instinctively.

Monika grinned, her gaze tinged with warmth. "You are, Kenta."

The world seemed to stand still at that moment. Monika's expression seemed to ease his heartbeat's rhythm down as the two of them looked at each other, sharing a profound, wordless exchange. This was not a statement that Kenta expected from Monika, even if it was something he should've anticipated with all the times they had bonded over the past month. In his ears rang Naoki's and Daisuke's words of encouragement about how he should try making a move, cheering him on while Monika's beautiful countenance stood before him, her emerald eyes looking upon him with genuine openness.

Monika went on, "You make me really happy when we spend time together, Kenta. I may not always show it, but there are times when I just want to crumble and collapse from all the things I contend with at school and here at home. My parents, the debate club, and everything else in between . . . it's more than I can handle. But when you hang around me and listen to me and appreciate what I have to say without doing so just to glorify me, when you support or help me in any way you can without the intention of solely gaining my favor, I no longer feel like I'm taken for granted. I feel like I can be myself without being dismissed just because people have grown used to me being perfect in their eyes for so long."

". . . B-But how can you be sure?" asked Kenta rather imploringly. "I mean, w-what if I _am_ just being nice to you only t-to make you like me?"

Monika shook her head. "I've dealt with enough people to know that you're not doing that, Kenta. I've always seen it in your eyes. You're the kind of person who's willing to put aside what he wants in order to make others feel comfortable and happy, but you're also willing to show and tell how you really feel when people ask you about things like that. You know how to respond to others without taking your feelings or theirs for granted. There are very few people I know who are like that—my good friend Sayori is one of them, and I'm certain her best friend Akihiro can vouch for that—but you . . . you're different somehow, and I . . . I think that made you special from my perspective."

Though his insides felt like they were rising up in jubilation, Kenta was still too aghast to react accordingly. "M-Monika. . ."

"I'm sorry if this all seems too sudden, with everything I'm saying right now and me inviting you here at my house for today," she continued quietly. "I invited you here because . . . this is a place where I should feel comfortable and yet it's where I've always felt so alone. I figured that maybe . . . maybe with you being here, things would change. And I was right, they did."

Kenta scratched his head, trying to find the right words to say. "Why . . . Why are you t-telling me all these things?" he asked softly.

Monika put a hand on his arm. "Because I've kept quiet for too long about how I really feel, Kenta, and I've decided that I'm going to change that today, starting with you."

Inwardly, Kenta stumbled a little, taking in everything that was happening right now with increasing effort. It was so surreal, so hard to believe, and yet it made him incredibly happy. He sighed. "I'm . . . I'm sorry if I wasn't able to say what I should be saying a while ago. It's not like I was hiding it because I didn't want you to find out about it. I was just . . . scared, that's all. Scared of what you might think if you found out that . . . t-that . . ."

Monika caressed his arm softly, stalling his words. "I know that you like me, Kenta. Even if you don't say it, I see it whenever you're with me. But I just want you to know that it's okay if you want to show me that you like me. You don't have to be scared, okay? I won't avoid you or think less of you just because of your feelings for me."

Her hand trailed down until he felt her fingers intertwine with his. "Let's make a deal. From now on, you don't have to hide anything anymore from me, okay? Whatever it is that you're feeling or thinking, you can tell me, and it won't make things awkward, I swear. If you like me, then you can show me or tell me about it. And I . . . I'll do the same with you."

He swallowed anxiously. "'Do the same?' But you don't like me, right? N-Not in that way, at least!"

Monika grinned. He felt her hand squeeze his lightly. "Are you sure about that?"

Kenta's heart skipped a beat. Privately, he wondered whether or not his face was now the same color as his hair. In front of him, Monika blushed as well, but that only made her look even more beautiful. All he managed to do in response was to laugh nervously, and she laughed with him.

Monika stood up after a short while. Though she was still blushing, she had never looked so happy. "Let's go. We still have a poem to make, right?" she asked gaily.

Kenta grinned. "Y-Yeah, you got that right."


	22. Chapter 22 - Hidden Feelings

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – HIDDEN FEELINGS (NatSuke)**

As Natsuki lay atop her bed, looking up at the ceiling as she mused on some answers she was writing for her Social Studies homework, she fidgeted and grumbled and sighed, as if she was actually wrestling and contending physically with her thoughts. She needed to focus, to think in spite of the hunger that was nagging at her gut. She would be eating dinner after she had finished her homework, though what she would be eating for dinner was entirely another matter. For now, she kept grimacing and hissing and even occasionally cursing as she tried harnessing her focus into finishing the task at hand.

Try as she might, though, her mind was still thinking about Daisuke.

It was now four days since the two of them met downtown to buy things for their History and English projects, four days since she had done the unthinkable and given Daisuke a special gift. Natsuki wondered then what Daisuke thought when he saw the cupcakes, as she knew that he would undoubtedly have taken a look at them the moment she left his presence. As she walked home last Sunday, she wondered whether Daisuke had guessed correctly that she was the one who baked those cupcakes for him.

_For him._

Ideally, Natsuki should stand proudly upright and boldly take credit for her cupcakes—her ability to bake was a talent of hers that would no doubt surprise those she would choose to show it to, and she was confident that she had the knack for baking _really _good cupcakes. So far, however, she had never done so.

She had only baked for others twice in her life: once for her cooking finals in Home Economics class, and once for her freshman class's participation in the school festival two years back. On both occasions, people had been wowed by the quality she put into baking those cute and delicious cupcakes, but not everyone knew that she was the one behind their making—at Home Economics, she had requested her professor to allow her to submit the cupcakes after class, away from the eyes of her classmates, while she gave the cupcakes for the school festival to the professor who was in charge of her class during freshman year. Such secrecy allowed her to avoid any unwanted jokes, similar to how other people took her interest in manga in a less-than-serious manner. Baking was complex and artful, and should she choose to let a friend in on her secret talent, Natsuki wanted it to be appreciated as such. The last thing she wanted to hear apart from _Parfait Girls _being mocked in her hearing was to hear other people mock her for taking up an interest in baking.

With Daisuke now knowing that she could bake, Natsuki felt that she might have boxed herself into a corner. She wanted to think that Daisuke might have assumed that she simply bought the cupcakes somewhere, but she knew that he wasn't that dense. Never before in her life did she imagine actually baking for a specific person, let alone _him _of all people. And yet, she actually took the time to save up parts of her allowance, buy ingredients, and work for three hours last Saturday in order to give him the cupcakes the following day. Was she hypnotized? Did she suddenly space out and do all of it like she was sleepwalking? After all, baking them as mandatory requirements for school was totally different from baking them freely for someone.

Because of all this, their lunch-eating and manga-reading sessions suffered as well. This all started Sunday night, when she told him through text that he didn't need to bring her lunch anymore, lying about how she now had some extra allowance and some food to get her by. Soon, she made it a point to look for an excuse to not hang around him for too long—catching up on extra schoolwork, prepping for a subject, doing an assignment in advance, and the like. Daisuke was none the wiser about the motives behind her actions, though Natsuki knew that he found everything odd and that she couldn't avoid him forever. Additionally, she felt the effects of eating less again for the past few days, and she soon found herself missing the food that Daisuke brought for her every day.

Natsuki surrendered. She sat up and let out an exasperated sigh, scratching her head irritably. She closed her notebook, laid down her pen and stood up, looking around her room to try and gather her thoughts one more time. However, not even the numerous anime and manga characters looking back at her from the posters she had plastered all over the walls of her room could provide her some peace of mind. Crossly, she grabbed her favorite stuffed pinky bunny, which sat on the end table next to her bed, and looked at it for a long while, trying to think straight. All she managed to do, however, was imagine in her mind's eye the look on Daisuke's face after she handed over her gift to him.

Knowing nothing else would come out of her thoughts, she set the stuffed rabbit back down and made her way out of her room, quietly going down the stairs. Her father would still be downstairs, she was sure, though she didn't know what state she would find him in. It was for this reason that she always moved carefully when he was around, doing her best not to do anything that would disturb him.

As she reached the foot of the stairs and made her way towards the kitchen, she could hear sounds in the living room—though she imagined that her father was watching television, she wondered whether he was actually watching or if he had fallen asleep on the sofa again. Knowing that the sounds of the T.V. would drown out any noise she would make, Natsuki decided to risk a peek in the living room.

To her relief, her father had indeed fallen asleep on the sofa. His hand dangled limply to the side of the sofa as he snored peacefully. The light coming from the television was the only source of brightness in the room; Natsuki knew that her father never turned on the lights whenever he watched T.V., remarking that it would only crank up their electric bill. The glow from the screen made the lines on his face seem more pronounced, giving him an older appearance in spite of his relatively young age of forty years. Three empty beer cans scattered next to his dangling hand told Natsuki why he had fallen asleep so early into the evening, as he always did most of the time.

Natsuki stared for a moment at her father's slumbering form, taking in his short hair that was already streaked with a bit of gray, and the food and beer stains on his shirt that made him look utterly piteous. In spite of—or rather, because of—his indolent lifestyle, her father was starting to look older and more beaten, worsened by the presence of stubble on his chin and the haunted look that his brown eyes had beneath their currently closed lids.

A sudden snore from him made her jump where she stood. Sleepily, her father twisted in his sleep and turned to lie in a better position, his back turning away from Natsuki and the television screen. His movements made Natsuki remember why she had come downstairs in the first place, so she left the living room and made her way to the kitchen.

She turned on the lights and looked around. Their small dining table was still clean, and there were no dirty dishes this time in the sink. Natsuki mused that perhaps her father had foregone eating dinner again in favor of drinking beer and sleeping the night away. She shook her head disappointedly; she didn't mind cleaning after him as long as he was eating properly at the very least. The tiles that made up the kitchen's floor were cold, causing her bare feet to sting a little as she walked over to the refrigerator.

Apart from a half-empty carton of milk, a few eggs and some frozen ham in the freezer, only a plate of leftover donburi takeout was left inside the fridge—a half-cup of rice and a few pieces of katsudon, with some egg yolk congealing over the meat. Natsuki sighed, took the plate out of the fridge and tried looking for something else to eat, knowing that these leftovers would never be enough to get her through the night. However, she knew that she would be spending a lot more time downstairs if she decided to fry a couple of eggs or defrost some ham to cook. Deciding against it, Natsuki opted to just make do with what she had rather than risk waiting for her father to wake up and enter the kitchen with her still there. She heated up the leftovers in the microwave oven they had, took a spoon from the kitchen drawers and quickly made her way back upstairs.

Back in her bedroom, Natsuki sat on her bed and picked up her cellphone. To her surprise, she saw that she had a text message from Daisuke.

"_hello! hope ur doing fine over there, hope i'm not disturbing u or anything. anyway, wanna eat lunch again 2morrow? it's been a while, and maybe we can read afterwards as always _:D_ but it's totes fine if u don't wanna! take care over there_ :)"

Natsuki looked at the message again, sighing sadly. Even when she lashed out at him in the past for irritating her, even now when she was avoiding him for petty reasons, Daisuke was always nice and friendly. He never imposed anything upon her that she didn't like, never grew sullen or resentful for being set aside and avoided, and never bothered her when he knew that she was in no mood to be bothered. Even in class, where the two of them sat side by side, Daisuke didn't make any move to talk to her unless she was the one who spoke first, even if these moments were merely brief interactions about a lecture or a seatwork. As always, he seemed to understand how she felt.

She considered replying to his message for a moment, wondering what to say. Deep down, she felt guilty for avoiding him, trying to imagine why she was suddenly keen on doing so after all the nice things he had done for her and with her. _He's accepted everything I've thrown at him. What am I so worried about now? _Unexpectedly, almost against her will, she imagined Daisuke sitting on their favorite spot underneath the trees outside their building at school, eating lunch or reading _Parfait Girls _all by himself. It was a sad thought that caught her off guard somehow.

She set down her phone and her plate of food next to her on the bed and lay down, grabbing one of her nearby pillows so that she could bury her face in it. Even with her eyes closed, however, she couldn't escape from her emotions, or from Daisuke's face. As she lay there, her hunger nudged at her a bit more, and her mind wandered for a moment on her current supper—if it could even be called that—and the food that Daisuke brought to her every day for lunch.

Determined anger coursed through Natsuki at everything she was being dealt with right now. _Suck it up, Natsuki. Suck it up_. Before tears could form on her eyes, she threw her pillow aside and snatched her cellphone.

* * *

Several streets away, Daisuke was lying atop his own bed in his room, staring at his cellphone and wondering what kind of reply he would get from Natsuki. No matter what he did, he found it difficult to do things without her text messages popping up on his phone every now and then for him to look at. He missed the blunt jokes she made about his occasional laziness and mistakes in doing his homework; he missed the way she would bombard him with messages full of emoticons just to try and get on his nerves; he missed the debates they had after they had done their homework, from their favorite characters in certain anime and manga to what their ideal anime or manga work would be.

Most of all, he missed her.

As cheesy as it sounds, Daisuke was willing to admit wholeheartedly that he enjoyed spending time with Natsuki as much as he loved spending time and messing around with Naoki and Kenta. The bliss of their downtown trip last Sunday was still over him, especially the surprise and joy he felt from the gift Natsuki had given him. Daisuke didn't know which surprised him more: the fact that Natsuki could bake, or the idea that she actually took the time to bake for him.

As such, her absence bothered him more than he would like to admit. After what happened last Sunday, he wanted to talk to her more, to get to know even more about her and spend more time with her outside of school. Daisuke sensed that such things could be a tad too brazen, but he couldn't shrug off his feelings easily. He wondered if she was eating properly without him, and imagined how she was doing at home. From what he had seen for the past few days in class as he sat next to her, Natsuki looked relatively fine in spite of her quietness. Then again, especially where a girl like Natsuki was concerned, outside appearances hide more than they should; Daisuke remembered the day when Natsuki almost collapsed from hunger, and imagined how relatively okay she looked before that happened.

He stood up and walked over to his study desk, where most of his things were. On one side of the desk, sitting neatly atop some of the manga he had, was the fourth issue of _Parfait Girls_' third act. He had stopped bringing the copy to school ever since Natsuki became unavailable for their manga-reading sessions, though that didn't stop him from reading it diligently every night after he was finished with his assignments. The more he read, however, the more he missed Natsuki, especially whenever his favorite character Yukari's _tsundere _moments in the story reminded him of her firm and straightforward attitude. He tried easing his worries and distracting himself by drawing in his new sketch pad, but to no avail—that only brought back memories of the first time he accompanied Natsuki at school by sketching while she ate.

On a whim, as if his brain was automatically commanding him to do something to divert his thoughts, Daisuke decided to go downstairs and get a glass of water. Leaving his room and walking down the short hallway to the stairs, he could hear her sister's favorite rock songs still playing inside her room.

At the foot of the stairs, he saw that the light in the kitchen was still on; Daisuke knew that his mother was still busy preparing what she would need for tomorrow's menu at the family diner. Indeed, as he passed through the white curtains that served as the door to the kitchen, he saw her stacking ingredients and meat inside the refrigerator. She turned around when she heard him come in, and wiped her hands on the blue apron she wore atop her white blouse and skirt.

"Everything okay, son?" she asked.

Daisuke looked at his mother's good-natured face, into those amber eyes which he inherited from her. As always, she seemed to know exactly when something was bothering him. "Just some stuff at school, Mom," he replied as he walked over to one of the small cupboards and took out a glass to fill with tap water.

"I see." His mother went over to the counter and started taking the other containers she would be putting in the fridge in her arms. Daisuke quickly finished his glass of water and walked on over to help her.

As the two of them worked, his mother looked over to him. "Oh, about tomorrow, should I be preparing two boxes instead of one?"

"No need, mom," he told her. "I told you before, my friend's doing better." _At least, I hope she is._

"Well, I just wish she's eating properly now," his mother remarked, tutting as she glanced over the containers in the fridge, making sure that everything was in order. "Seriously, skipping breakfast _and _lunch? Poor dear. What are her parents even doing while she's leaving home starving like that?"

In lieu of a reply, he sighed a bit anxiously. His mother smiled. "You're worried about her, aren't you?"

Daisuke sighed. "I'd be lying if I wasn't, mom," he admitted sheepishly.

After he finished helping his mother arrange the containers neatly in the fridge, Daisuke made his way back up to his room. He had gone downstairs hoping to ease his mind about Natsuki, and yet he only managed to remember her almost collapsing from starvation. The idea that Natsuki didn't manage to eat breakfast properly at her house and had nothing to bring for lunchtime that day made him imagine what her home situation might really be, though he had never opted to ask her about it.

As he reentered his room and took a look at his phone, Daisuke saw that, at long last, Natsuki had replied.

"_hello. don't worry, I'm doing ok,_ _just been busy, alright? that's all, stop asking. really sorry, but i don't think i can meet u up 2morrow 4 lunch yet. night_"

Daisuke read the message three times, mixed emotions coursing through him. Natsuki's reply told him a lot already, and its arrival lightened his mood considerably. He was, however, also a bit crestfallen that she wasn't able to eat lunch and read manga with him just yet. The lack of cute emoticons in the message told him enough about Natsuki's mood at the moment, as well as the terse way her message ended, quite similar to the way she often spoke whenever she didn't want to be disturbed or annoyed. Nevertheless, he quickly rallied, knowing that he shouldn't force the issue if Natsuki was not up to it.

_As long as she says so, I'll take her word for it_.

"_it's ok, totes understand_ :) _just take care, ok? and just tell me when ur up 2 it again_ :D _gudnyt_!"

As he pressed "Send," Daisuke knew he wanted to say more, but couldn't. He set down his cellphone and decided to just start a new sketch to distract his mind again. He sat down at his desk, tore out the tentative sketch he had going—a random character from _Gun Blazers—_and started afresh on a new page on his sketch pad. For a few moments, he didn't move as he began thinking of something new to draw. For a long while, no other noise prevailed in his room other than the sound of his mechanical pencil tapping against his desk and the occasional noises he could hear outside his house and on the streets.

* * *

Natsuki looked around the school's rooftop as she took another bite of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich she had brought along for lunch. She had been coming here for the past few days to eat alone, as there were very few students who came up here to do so during lunchtime. Luckily for her, there was a spot some distance away from the rooftop entrance that students tended to ignore; this was where she had chosen to sit and eat undisturbed by anyone.

Given how little she had found to eat in the fridge last night, there wasn't much for her to eat for the day as well. Natsuki made two sandwiches for the day; one for breakfast, one for lunchtime. Her father seemed to have forgotten or neglected again to buy some proper food to restock the fridge with, though Natsuki didn't want to mention anything about it to him unless she found him in a better mood. Before she had left for school that morning, she had found him sulking at the sofa, staring at nothing in particular, his appearance exactly the same as last night. His quiescence, however, was never to be taken too lightly; Natsuki knew that sometimes, he was simply a powder keg waiting to explode.

Natsuki shook her head, focusing her thoughts now on the very brief exchange she had with Daisuke last night. Her reply to his message took her around ten minutes to articulate, and yet she still cringed at how sloppy it turned out to be. Moreover, she was slightly apprehensive that her reply might have sounded too irritated than it actually was; as she reread it last night, she could sense that Daisuke might have misinterpreted her words as an indication that she was fed up with him. Indeed, it seemed to testify exactly why Daisuke was quieter than usual today; he didn't talk much to her earlier in class, not even to ask about something regarding a lecture or a seatwork as he would occasionally do.

_I should've texted him again_, Natsuki thought. A follow-up text may have sufficed, but she realized that it would work only if she had something meaningful to say. The abrupt way she ended her text message to him brooked no further argument or discussion, and she sensed that any attempt from her to follow it up with anything else would be too awkward or out of place.

A cool breeze blew around the rooftop, offering relief from the noontime sun. Some students soon finished their lunches and began going back inside to descend to their classrooms. Natsuki, however, remained long after she had finished her sandwich, opting to go back to class only as soon as the first post-lunchtime bell rang, which she could only faintly hear from where she was. She crumpled up the paper bag she had wrapped her sandwich in and threw it into a nearby wastebasket as she stood up and walked around, still thinking.

As she did so, she walked over to the rooftop's balustrades and looked out towards the city. Buildings and trees worked together to provide a beautiful view, with certain areas dominated by suburban rooftops and other parts like downtown flanked by high-rise edifices and commercial structures. The creek sliced through the middle of it all, its waters glimmering in the sun as it divided the small city in two. Natsuki breathed deeply, the view and the air offering her mind some comfort and ease from her warring thoughts.

At last, she came to a decision, a decision so obvious and simple, and yet so difficult to pull off. Considering how much she prided herself on being efficient and practical when it came to dealing with problems—particularly with problems that shouldn't even have surfaced in the first place—she felt ashamed for taking the initiative this late into the week.

With one last admiring look at the city's scenery, she decided to forego waiting for the bell and made her way downstairs. The sandwich had done its work, though she knew she'd be feeling otherwise in a couple of hours or so.

_Later._

* * *

As Natsuki had sensed, she was right. Just before their last class, she began feeling stabs of hunger acting up in her gut. It was a good thing that their difficult classes like Math and Science had already been held earlier that morning, or else she would have difficulty writing down notes and answering recitation questions. The hunger wasn't as bad as the one she had when she nearly collapsed next to Daisuke, but it was still enough to make her feel woozy and slightly irritable. By the time the dismissal bell rang, a cold sweat had broken out on her face.

Still, she couldn't back down from what she had decided on earlier. As she packed up her things alongside her classmates, she sneaked in a few glances at Daisuke. The expression on his face looked nearly unfathomable as he stowed away his notebook and papers. Natsuki decided to wait a bit more until there were only a few people left in the classroom.

When she saw that Daisuke was ready to leave, however, she knew that she needed to act fast, regardless of how many people were still around. She took a deep breath, as if she was about to take a dive into the ocean. Anxious or not, hungry or not, she was ready. She had to be.

_Here we go_. "Daisuke?"

Almost immediately, Daisuke looked up at her. Natsuki could see surprise behind his amber eyes. "Yes?"

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure thing!" Daisuke sat up straighter in his seat. "What's up?"

Natsuki shifted her feet nervously. It felt as if she was meeting Daisuke for the first time all over again. "About last night. I just . . . wanted to apologize," she said quietly.

Daisuke's brow furrowed. "Last night?"

"I'm not m-mad at you, okay? I know that what I said to you last night through text . . . I know that it might've sounded like I was mad at you, but I'm not. I just . . . I wasn't able to think clearly enough. I'm sorry if . . . if I came across as too angry or something."

Deep inside, Natsuki could feel her inner being cringe. The apology sounded so awkward in her hearing, especially now that she began processing the reasons why she had been avoiding Daisuke for the past few days.

Daisuke, on the other hand, smiled at her gregariously. "Natsuki, come on now. You really think I'd take something like that personally? Remember my reply to your message? I totally understand. If anything, I should be the one apologizing because it seems like I was just pestering you."

Now, Natsuki began to feel really discomfited. "N-No, you weren't bothering me, okay? I mean, I wasn't even really busy all week t-to begin with. . ."

"What do you mean?"

Natsuki sighed deeply again, her hunger and embarrassment starting to work together to overwhelm her. She looked around and saw to her relief that she and Daisuke were alone in the classroom now. Only the corridor remained occupied and crowded by many other students. Natsuki wiped the sweat from her brow with her sleeve, her breath hissing through her teeth as she started composing herself. Before she could say anything else, however, Daisuke cut her off.

"Natsuki . . . it's okay. You don't have to apologize."

Natsuki looked up at him. "Huh?"

He smiled again. "I think I understand what you're trying to say. And it's alright. I understand everything."

"You d-do?"

He nodded, his smile fading somewhat to make way for concern on his face. "Yes, I do. If you feel like you need to spend more time alone, I won't bother you. I was thinking that maybe you're going through a lot of things right now, and maybe that's the reason why you haven't been able to talk to me properly for a while. I understand, and you don't have to say sorry for that."

"N-No, it's not like that," said Natsuki hastily. "The reason I wasn't talking to you was because . . . b-because I was just embarrassed about what happened last Sunday, okay?!"

She blurted out the last words with her eyes closed, trying her best not to raise her voice. In her mind, she knew she had just taken the plunge. She decided to go on.

"Look, I know it's a long shot for me to imagine you believing that I bought those cupcakes somewhere instead of making them for you," she said sullenly, "b-but if it's not already obvious, I made them, and the thing is that I . . . I thought you might make fun of me for it. I mean, I know it's a special talent or whatever, b-but I don't want you or anyone else to think that it's a joke or something, okay?"

In her hearing, her words sounded rather futile and petty, with "for you" being the unwanted icing on the cake, but she didn't care at this point. Her hunger and the stress of trying to express her thoughts properly were getting on her nerves.

It took a few moments before Daisuke replied. ". . . Natsuki, why would I make fun of you for that? What's there to joke about? If anything, I should be thanking you for them!"

"D-Didn't you even think for a second that I just bought them from a bakery or something?" asked Natsuki.

"Well, not for long," said Daisuke with an apologetic chuckle. "The cat designs basically told me that you were the one behind them, because I figured it'd be something cute that you would make."

_Cute. _". . . I'm gonna pretend that I didn't hear you say that," Natsuki muttered.

"I'm sorry! But you don't have to worry, okay? They tasted awesome!"

Natsuki bit her lip. "Stop it! Y-You're just patronizing me!"

"Natsuki, I'm not!" Daisuke insisted. "Even my mom liked them!"

That did it. A wave of shock coursed through Natsuki's being. Her mouth fell open, and her eyes widened. She could feel her body trembling as her mortification deepened.

"Y-You . . . y-y-you gave—"

Daisuke looked at her rather apologetically. "W-Well, yes, because I couldn't exactly hide them when I got home, right?" he remarked. "But don't worry, she really liked them!"

The thought of Daisuke giving his mother—a talented cook who could prepare delicious meals—some of the cupcakes she made was too much for Natsuki to bear at the moment. She buried her face in her hands, causing her palms to become slick with the cold sweat on her face. When she exhaled, her breathing was slightly ragged.

"Natsuki, are you okay?" asked Daisuke. "You're looking a bit pale again. Are you—?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine, it's nothing!" said Natsuki quickly, waving her hand dismissively. Once again, Daisuke had picked up on the malaise she was feeling, but this time, she didn't want him worrying too much.

Daisuke, however, would have none of it. He stood up and made his way next to her, kneeling down like he did that one time. "We've been through this, Natsuki, and I know that you're hungry right now. We can buy some food at the convenience store near here if you want. I'll help you there."

She looked at him despairingly. "Why are you doing this again to me, Daisuke?"

"Because I care, Natsuki," he replied seriously. "I care about you."

For a long while, the two of them stared eye to eye. The noise in the corridor had lessened considerably, and Natsuki sensed that the two of them would soon be the only students still inside one of the classrooms. Much like the text message she had sent him last night, the look gleaming behind Daisuke's amber eyes brooked no disagreement.

She sighed. "Fine. It's not like we can stay here forever anyway. . ."

* * *

After eating a couple of tuna sandwiches and drinking a bottle of fruit juice—bought with his own allowance in spite of her pleas—Natsuki regained her strength and composure, but Daisuke didn't leave her side until he made sure that she was doing much better. As he watched her eat, he felt both excited and happy that, at last, the two of them were getting back on track after five days of being unable to talk properly to each other.

"Like I said, you don't have to worry about it, okay?" Daisuke told her. "I understand why you did all that. It's not that big of a deal for me, I was just worried that something might be wrong with you and all."

"Well, nothing's wrong so far," said Natsuki as she finished her bottle of juice. "I'm sorry if I made you worry."

"It's nothing," said Daisuke. "I just hope you didn't starve yourself again while we weren't talking."

"No, I didn't," replied Natsuki. "I was eating less, but I tried my best not to skip meals. It's just tough when there's not much to go by at home and all. . ."

Daisuke frowned. Once again, his curiosity about Natsuki's home situation surfaced; for the second time in his presence, she had come to school without eating a proper meal. This time, it was too much for him to keep mum on it. "About that," he muttered, "is there something wrong, Natsuki? At your home, I mean."

Natsuki suddenly looked uneasy. "N-No, what made you ask that?"

He shrugged. "It's just that when you're like this, I think that you . . . um, how do I put this? . . . You seem like you don't have much to, er . . . eat at home or something. . ."

He tried to phrase his words as best as he could, but they felt pushy nonetheless, as if he was intruding on something private. Still, his worries—he couldn't label them as "fears" yet—would never be properly alleviated unless he asked and got an answer. Being unable to eat properly for a day could be understood, but being unable to do so for days was a red flag. At the back of his mind, Daisuke remembered what Natsuki had said the first time she wept in front of him.

_Every day . . . Every s-single day . . . is so hard . . . I don't . . . know what to d-do sometimes anymore. . . I just want to c-come to school and . . . a-and . . ._

When Natsuki replied, she sounded as if she was forcing her voice to steady itself. "D-Don't worry about it, o-okay? I'm fine. My dad just . . . forgot to buy some groceries again, that's all."

As he stared into her vividly pink eyes, Daisuke nodded to show that he understood, but he sensed that there was more to this than Natsuki was saying. Again, he remembered how she looked when she cried. It was a sight that greatly contrasted Natsuki's headstrong and determined personality, and he wondered whether that was also the first time she had ever cried in front of anyone. Right now, however, Natsuki was being her usual defensive self, and while he wanted to know more to help her, he couldn't blame her for doing so. She was a proud girl, stronger than many would give her credit for, and that was a trait that he admired so much about her. Daisuke decided to let the issue be for now.

At that moment, he remembered his drawing session last night. "That reminds me, there's something here that I want you to see," he told Natsuki. He reached for his backpack and took out his sketch pad. Immediately, Natsuki's eyes gleamed excitedly, and he smiled to himself as he knew how much she liked his drawings of anime and manga characters.

"Who is it this time?" she asked, referring to the character he had drawn.

Daisuke's grin grew wider as he passed over the sketch pad, now open on the proper page, to her. "You tell me."

Natsuki opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped when her eyes gazed upon the sketch pad's page. Daisuke scooted a little closer, wishing to see his handiwork once again, and together the two of them looked at the drawing.

The character in question was a female, drawn in an art style almost identical to the one in _Parfait Girls_. Her young-looking face was smiling happily, and she wore a blouse and blazer similar to the one worn by the girls at their school. Her short, straight hair had twin tails adorned with ribbons, and her fringe was decorated by a bow-shaped clip. Overall, the image was completed by a number of colors, shaded in with coloring pencils to the best of Daisuke's efforts. There was a bit of warm gray for the girl's blazer and some red for her ribbons and hair clip, but the predominant shade on the page was pink for her hair and eyes.

Natsuki's eyes shifted back and forth from the drawing to Daisuke, her mouth gaping. Redness started creeping into her cheeks. "W-W-What . . . y-you . . ."

"Well, now we know what you'd look like as a Parfait Girl, I guess," Daisuke remarked, chuckling. "It's not exactly like looking into a mirror, but at least the art style is loyal to the source material, right?"

For a long while, Natsuki continued staring at the sketch as if she was reading a deluxe copy of _Parfait Girls_. "It . . . it l-looks great," she managed to stammer breathlessly. "I mean, really, it's . . . really awesome."

Her hands trembling, she tried to give the sketch pad back to him, but Daisuke waved her off. "You can keep it," he said, "It's a gift. It may not be as good as your cupcakes, but, um, well . . ."

Now, it was Natsuki's turn to be struck dumb with emotion from being given a gift. She continued staring at the drawing, torn between smiling and turning away. To help convince her, Daisuke took the sketch pad from her, carefully tore out the page where the drawing was, and handed it to her.

"If you want, you can just slip it inside a book and take it out when you get home," he said. "Feel free to do whatever you want with it! Share it online, keep it, throw it away, up to you."

"N-No!" Natsuki cried out, having found her voice at last. She looked agitated now, as if Daisuke had suggested something so foolish. "Of course I'm not gonna throw that away, are you kidding me, you dummy?!" She took the page from his hand and, just as he instructed, pulled out a random book from her school bag and tucked it safely away inside, careful not to crease it in any way as she did so. After she had put the book back inside her bag, she looked at him again, her eyes brimming with emotion. Daisuke couldn't help but feel stirred as well at the sight of her, and his own face started to turn pink as well.

When she spoke again, her voice was softer. "Thanks," she said. "I mean, really, thanks for that."

"You're welcome," said Daisuke earnestly. "Well, it's getting late. Wanna go home now?"

He smiled at her, and just like when she had given him the cupcakes she had baked, Natsuki smiled warmly back. It was a rare sight, always so beautiful whenever it showed.

"Alright, let's go then, dummy."


	23. Chapter 23 - Bottles

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – BOTTLES (SayoHiro)**

The sun shone merrily from above as Sayori walked along the sidewalk on her way to school. Akihiro had texted her earlier, telling her that he would be waiting for her at one of the convenience stores that they usually stopped by when they walked to school every morning. She was feeling rather jealous that he had woken up earlier than she did, but she was also proud at the idea that he was now starting to become more responsible indeed. She quickened her pace, almost walking with a spring in her step, humming a jolly little tune as she went.

When she finally reached the convenience store in question, Sayori peeked into its glass windows, scanning the interior for Akihiro. No matter what she did, though, Akihiro was nowhere inside. Only other students and some people on their way to work were present, browsing the shelves for snacks and other amenities. Frowning, she went inside the store, sending a text to Akihiro to notify him that she had arrived. Musing that perhaps he was just behind the shelves at the back looking for some snacks, Sayori went there to look for him.

It was no use. Akihiro was nowhere to be found. Five minutes had passed since she entered the convenience store, and while Sayori was becoming anxious about possibly arriving late to school the longer she stayed where she was, she was more worried about the fact that Akihiro seemed to be missing. Was his text message a dud? A joke meant to cause her to become late for school? _No, Akihiro would never do that_.

When she heard her phone beep in her skirt's pocket, Sayori quickly took it out and opened the message that had just arrived. Her heart felt a bit relieved when she saw that it was a text from Akihiro. What she didn't expect, however, were the words he had just sent her.

"_i left already._ _go away,_ _stop looking 4 me_"

Sayori stared, dumbstruck, at the text message. The shortness of it and the brusque tone with which Akihiro addressed her caused her heart to suddenly twitch with pain. What kind of reply was this? Quick tears started forming at the corners of her eyes. Now really panicking, she sprinted out of the convenience store. Akihiro seemed to know that she was looking for him, so she mused that he could be somewhere nearby.

More people were now walking along the sidewalk, but no matter how long Sayori looked around at each of their faces individually, Akihiro was nowhere among them. She called out to him, but her voice seemed to die in her throat. Instead, all she could do was turn around wildly, gasping as tears started flowing down her cheeks. Her chest was tightening, as if it was being crushed, and her legs felt like jelly. Voices filled her head, cold as ice, alien and unknown, telling her all sorts of horrible things.

Sayori jerked awake, sitting bolt upright, gasping as if she had been running from something. The sidewalk had vanished, replaced by the familiar sights of her apartment unit. The people walking by were replaced by only her beloved stuffed animals, still sitting on the windowsill, watching her innocently. Stuck on the wall using some double-sided tape, meanwhile, was the self-portrait that had earned her an A in her Art class, its colors and the two green circles that represented Akihiro's eyes looking diminished in the darkness.

In a mad rush, she quickly grabbed her cellphone from the end table next to her bed and saw no notifications or messages. She looked up and saw on her wall clock that it was now fifteen minutes before six in the morning.

She bit her lip. Just like in her dream, tears formed in her eyes. Feeling scared at the idea of going back to sleep after another nightmare, she scrolled through her cellphone's contact list and stared long and hard at Akihiro's number. Torn between her thoughts, Sayori pressed her hand against her forehead. _It's still too early, but . . ._

She let out a sad sigh and dialed up his number. After around five or six rings, Akihiro answered; his voice sounded sleepy. "Hello . . . ?"

_He's still asleep. I knew I shouldn't have called_. But Akihiro had told her during that blissful weekend she spent together with him long ago that if she ever had any more nightmares or if she ever needed someone to talk to about her thoughts, she could call him, and he would answer as long as he was either awake or not busy. It was during a time like this when Sayori bemoaned the distance between her apartment and his place, even if it was just a short one, but at least they had technology to close that gap with. She swallowed her fears about disturbing him. _He would've wanted to know_.

"Akihiro, it . . . it's . . ." she stammered tearfully.

Some soft noises followed her words; Sayori imagined that Akihiro must have sat up straighter on his bed. When he spoke again, his voice sounded more alert and serious. "Another nightmare?"

"Yes. . ." Over the span of two and a half months, this was her fifth nightmare, counting the one she had when she took a nap at Akihiro's place. On all instances, the things that happened in them were similar, and while Sayori was glad that they didn't come frequently, she always dreaded their arrival and aftermaths.

"Is it about . . . _that_ again?" asked Akihiro.

Sayori hiccupped as she bit back a sob. "Y-Yes. . ."

Akihiro sighed. In her hearing, it always sounded like an expression of exasperation from him, borne from being woken up at such an early hour just because she had bothered him again. As always, however, Akihiro would be quick to assure her that it was an expression of concern and sadness at the idea of her being unable to get some proper sleep. For now, she took it as such.

He asked, "Do you want me to come over in a moment?"

"No!" Sayori cried out imploringly. "No, it's alright. I'm d-doing fine now, really!"

"Are you sure?" Akihiro's concerned tone never left him.

"Yes." In spite of the nightmare's terribly jarring effect on her, hearing Akihiro's voice was indeed calming her down. "After all, w-we're gonna be meeting halfway on the way to school, right? We'll j-just see each other then."

"Alright, if you say so," said Akihiro. "Are you gonna be going back to sleep? I'm gonna be waking up at around six-thirty anyway, so I guess I'll just wait."

"I think I'm gonna wait, t-too," replied Sayori. "Do you w-want to meet up before seven? I'll go to your place if you want."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go to your place instead? It's totally fine with me, Sayori."

"No, it's okay," Sayori insisted. "Besides, school's in the direction of your place, right? It's better than you heading in the opposite direction. . ."

"Well, alright, if you're sure you're okay with that," Akihiro mused. "Don't rush yourself too much, okay? You can arrive a bit later than seven if you want."

"Yes, and don't worry. I'll be f-fine!"

As she ended the call, Sayori let out a sigh. The nightmare's effects still lingered on her, but it was the thought of seeing Akihiro again that gave her the strength to fight them. She smiled. Though Akihiro wasn't there to see the expression, she let it out as she began to feel better little by little.

* * *

Lunchtime was quieter than usual for Sayori, but it wasn't all bad. Though their new status as a couple would warrant more time spent together even at school, those kind of moments weren't as frequent as one would think. Sayori didn't want to make it seem like she was dragging Akihiro away from his classmates and other friends just so he would keep her company during lunchtime or such. Moreover, it wasn't that big of a deal as Sayori also had some of her own friends around as well. Her meetup with Akihiro earlier that morning had done a lot to improve her mood, and she was sure that it would only get better once the two of them met up again after school at Akihiro's insistence—Sayori was sure that, much like when she had her first nightmare with him around, Akihiro was doing this to cheer her up even more.

When she finished eating, she excused herself from her friends and made her way back to the 3-A classroom, intending to catch up on some last-minute reviewing for their upcoming Social Studies quiz later that day. There, she found Monika sitting alone in her chair, humming as she wrote on her notebook.

All thoughts of reviewing for Social Studies momentarily forgotten, Sayori decided to approach her for now. "Hello, Moni!" she said brightly.

Monika looked up and smiled when she saw her. "Hello, Sayori! Had a good lunch?"

"Yep!" said Sayori, returning the smile with extra cheerfulness. "How about you? Have you eaten?"

"Yes, thank you for asking," replied Monika amiably, setting down her pen. "Didn't eat much, though—just a sandwich and nothing else. I'm going out with Kenta again later after school, and maybe we're gonna grab a bite then."

"Eh?! How can you last for three more hours on a small lunch?!" asked Sayori. The idea of not eating much always seemed like a terrible thing to her. "Won't you collapse or something?"

Monika laughed. "I'll be alright, Sayori. Kenta told me that there's this good vegetarian resto that he found out about earlier this week that we can try. I'm just saving up some space in my stomach just in case."

"Ooh, that sounds nice! Seems like you two are really starting to become close, hmm?" Sayori remarked with a knowing grin.

"Well, I can't deny that," said Monika amicably. "How about you and Akihiro? Still going steady?"

Sayori blushed. "Y-Yep, but I don't think we're going out as often as you t-two lovebirds are!"

Monika's face turned a little pink as well, though her eyes looked warmed by her remark. "Well, how frequently do you go out on dates with Akihiro?"

Sayori fidgeted, embarrassed. "Um, I don't really count how many times we've gone out already over the past couple of months, b-but most of the time we plan it for every other week, and sometimes we end up going out twice in that week. I guess that's good enough for me!"

"Why don't you two go out every week?"

Sayori gasped. "I couldn't ask Akihiro t-to do that for me! I mean, it's bad enough that he spends his allowance on me whenever we go out, s-so I might end up emptying his wallet fast if we went on dates every week! W-What if he goes hungry or can't buy what he needs because he already spent all of his allowance on our dates? I can't let that happen!"

Monika reached out and patted her on the arm gently. "I understand. You know, it's always so heartwarming when you speak about things like that, especially about Akihiro."

Again, Sayori began fidgeting with her fingers. "I just don't want him t-to give too much time and effort for me, especially when he has other important things to d-do, like homework. You know that I always r-remind him about that, right?"

"I know," said Monika, "and that's really sweet. But you do realize that if Akihiro goes out of his way to be with you, it doesn't mean that he's doing it against his will, right? He likes you, and he cares enough to do what he can to make sure that you always have fun, just like how you want the same for him!"

"I know that. It's just . . ." Sayori bit her lip. Her voice faltered a little as she remembered how worried Akihiro looked initially when they met up earlier that morning. "I don't w-want to bother him about that most of the t-time. . ."

Monika patted her again. "I know you're a girl who likes to have a lot of fun, Sayori, and I'm certain Akihiro knows that as well. Don't sweat over the little things, okay? Go out, enjoy the time you have with him! Don't think that Akihiro is just being forced to go out with you. If you're having fun, I'm sure he is, too. Your happiness is his priority, just like his wellbeing is yours."

Sayori let out a sigh. What Monika had said was perfectly true, and she saw no reason to deny it. "Alright, I'll keep that in mind. J-Just do me a favor and remind me when I forget, okay?" she said timidly.

"I'll gladly do that, Sayori," said Monika in a motherly tone, "and if you need help with anything else, just let me know, okay? I'm not claiming to be an expert on relationships, but I'd be glad to help you two!"

Monika's openness made Sayori smile. "Thank you, Moni. I'm glad you're here to help me out."

"What are friends for, right?" said Monika, returning the smile genially.

* * *

Sayori's face fell when Akihiro showed up at the school entrance. Even as he gave her a smile and walked with her arm in his, Sayori saw a tired and downtrodden look behind his pale green eyes. Immediately, she asked him in a concerned tone, "Are you okay?"

"Mostly," said Akihiro with a sigh. "Had a bit of a rough time at P.E., plus our group got into a bit of trouble for passing some of our History research notes late."

"Oh, no! I hope you weren't given a lot of trouble!" exclaimed Sayori worriedly.

"I'll manage," Akihiro muttered. "It's just one of those days, with schoolwork picking up and all, so sometimes I end up getting tired a bit faster. How about you? How did your day go?"

"It went pretty well," replied Sayori. "Most of that is thanks to you, of c-course!"

Akihiro smiled. "Couldn't leave you to get through the day being sad, right? Good thing I knew just what to do to cheer you up."

Sayori pouted. "If you're going to tease me for being happy that you bought me breakfast, I won't talk to you anymore for the rest of the day."

"I didn't say anything yet," said Akihiro, chuckling. The laughter faded away quickly, though, and his eyes looked tired again. Picking up on this, Sayori hugged his arm tightly against her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked with apprehension.

"Yeah, don't worry about me," said Akihiro. "Hopefully, tomorrow's gonna be a better day."

As the two of them walked past the school gates and towards downtown for their planned after-school excursion, Sayori kept watching Akihiro with growing concern, imagining what she could do to cheer him up. Though part of her burned to call off the trip for another time so that Akihiro could rest and feel better, Sayori also remembered Monika's words earlier, and how having fun with Akihiro downtown might actually help them both better than going home immediately will.

"I want to go to the arcade again," said Sayori after a while. "I want to try out that game you were playing last time, the one with the gun-shaped controllers and the zombies."

Akihiro looked at her. "Are you sure about that? When I was playing that, you were screaming and jumping like crazy."

Sayori pouted. "Only because the zombies pop out in jumpscares s-sometimes!"

"So how are you planning on playing it? By hiding behind me while I do all the work?" asked Akihiro jokingly.

"I'll manage! You'll see, meanie!"

* * *

Because the two of them didn't have any place picked out yet, Akihiro decided to humor Sayori and went to the arcade with her. As usual, the place was crowded, and cacophony prevailed everywhere as music from various arcade machines and the happy voices of teens and young kids playing mixed together in a resounding din. After they had bought a great number of tokens at the arcade's counter, Akihiro guided her towards the corner where the game that Sayori had asked to play—_Bullets 'N Brains—_was located.

For the next thirty minutes, the two of them worked together to play through the game, shooting down different varieties of zombies as their characters progressed through an abandoned town. Obviously, Akihiro was clearing out the zombies faster than she was, but Sayori dug deep and kept playing as best as she could, only faltering whenever a jumpscare appeared to catch her off guard. She laughed and squealed and shouted as she played, and there were times when she would instinctively embrace Akihiro after being startled by a jumpscare. In spite of some onlookers laughing along at Sayori's reactions to the game, Akihiro laughed with them and Sayori out of enjoyment.

"Oh, man, that was something else," said Akihiro, still chuckling when the two of them managed to finish the game. "I didn't realize you'd get so good at shooting halfway through, Sayori."

"See? I told you I would manage!" said Sayori proudly, looking at her character's score on the game's screen one more time before they left to go elsewhere. "It just takes some practice, but if I really get into it, I'll be able to play more video games like that with you in the future!"

"Yeah, it does take practice to not scream every time a zombie appears on the screen," said Akihiro mirthfully. Sayori pinched his arm.

"Horror games are an acceptable exception, okay?" she cried out. "Anyway, I want to keep learning about video games so that you won't have to play all alone anymore."

Akihiro blushed. "I'm okay with playing games alone, Sayori. But still . . . thanks for that," he said with a smile.

Sayori beamed at him, hugging his arm once again as the two of them walked around the arcade, looking for more games to play. "What else are we gonna be playing here? Or do you have a place in mind that we can go to now?"

Akihiro looked at her, frowning thoughtfully. Sayori waited for him to reply, but when he was still silent for a few moments longer than usual, she asked him, "What is it?"

"I'm just reading your mind," said Akihiro in a serious tone, "and it's saying. . . 'I want to eat now.'"

Now it was Sayori's turn to frown. Again, she pinched his arm as the frown on his face was replaced by a gleeful smile. "Did it also tell you what a big meanie you are?" she asked.

Akihiro laughed, ruffling her hair. "No, it told me how cute and sweet you are for helping me feel better."

Sayori's face turned pink. "Well . . . was it t-that obvious?" she asked, giggling a bit nervously.

"I don't care if it was. It's still really sweet of you," said Akihiro appreciatively.

The two of them decided to spend another half-hour playing some arcade games, capping it off with four tries at the arcade's claw machines. Though one of their attempts bore no fruit, their other three attempts earned Sayori two more stuffed animals and what looked to be a gold belt that she accidentally pulled off the foot of a stuffed toy that she was aiming for. Upon inspection, the two of them saw that the belt was actually a hidden special reward that allowed a winner to pick any prize of their choosing at the arcade prize counter. To Sayori's immense delight, she now had a pink cat, a fluffy hedgehog, and the prize that she had redeemed with the golden belt: a stuffed cow the size of a small child, which she instantly and lovingly dubbed Mr. Cow; Akihiro was quick to remind her that cows were female, instigating a short but cute debate about whether or not "Mr. Cow" was a girl as they left the arcade.

Because they had a bit of trouble carrying Mr. Cow to their next possible stops, the two of them opted to order some takeout from the night market and eat back at Sayori's place instead. Now carrying small boxes of yakitori, korokke and takoyaki, they made their way back outside downtown and towards the direction of Sayori's apartment, running into some of their schoolmates along the way.

Sayori's place remained virtually unchanged apart from the unkempt state her bedsheets and pillows were in. She admitted with embarrassment that she had been in such a hurry to meet up with him before school that she forgot to make her bed in the process. On a normal day, Akihiro would have joked about this particular lapse, but given why she had been so flustered and agitated in the first place that morning, he decided to keep mum about it and instead helped her arrange everything before they sat down to eat.

When the two of them were done, Sayori placed her newly-won stuffed cat and hedgehog along with the rest of her animal friends on her apartment unit's windowsill. Mr. Cow, on the other hand, earned a place at the foot of Sayori's bed, given that there was no windowsill or shelf large enough to prop her on.

"You really like hugging Mr. Cow, don't you?" asked Akihiro in an amused tone as he watched her pick up and hug the large stuffed animal one more time.

Sayori looked at him knowingly as she set Mr. Cow down. "Is someone getting jealous that they're not getting any hugs?"

That caught him off guard. "I d-didn't say anything like that," he replied, blushing.

"It's okay, because I've got plenty of hugs for you!" said Sayori happily. As if to prove her point, she went over to where he was and embraced him snugly. Akihiro felt relieved by the warmth of her body; it was always a good sensation which let him feel just how much emotion Sayori was putting into such a gesture. Given the rough day he had earlier, her hug was more than welcome, and he embraced her back just as tightly.

"Are you feeling better?" Sayori asked, her voice muffled as most of her face was pressed into Akihiro's shoulder.

"Loads better, all thanks to you," replied Akihiro. "How about you?"

"Of course," said Sayori brightly, breaking away a bit from the hug to look at him. "As long as you're around, I'll always b-be fine. Oh, that reminds me. I talked to Monika earlier."

"What about?"

". . . Us." Sayori blushed. She gave him a small smile, but before Akihiro could return it, she sighed and buried her face into his chest, sighing sadly.

"I'm sorry for troubling you again earlier," she said quietly, "because of m-my nightmare and all. . ."

"No, Sayori, don't," said Akihiro in a reassuring tone. "I don't want you to apologize again about things like that. I've told you before. I understand, and it's okay with me. I can't stop you from having nightmares like that, so the least that I can do is to keep you company whenever they arrive. Remember what I told you when you slept over at my place?"

"I know, Akihiro, I remember. It's just that—"

Before she could finish whatever it was that she was about to say, she stopped cold when Akihiro cupped his hand gently on her face, stroking her cheek softly with his thumb. Akihiro still hadn't gotten used to giving gestures such as this, even if the two of them were now an official couple in the eyes of their schoolmates. The intimacy of it embarrassed him slightly, but he knew that it was one of the more serious ways that he could express how he felt to Sayori when words weren't enough.

"When I saw you crying because of your nightmares, Sayori, it reminded me of the times you got hurt as a kid while we were playing. Back then, it always hit me so hard whenever you cried because you were hurt, but seeing you cry the way you did that night because of . . . of a different kind of pain . . . I'll b-be honest. I don't want to see that happen anymore."

As he spoke, he imagined the pain he felt watching Sayori cry so fearfully, so miserably. Indeed, it was more than his heart could take, and he knew that he could never fully make through another instance of it without being torn apart inwardly.

Sayori spoke up before he could say anything else, holding onto the hand that was cupped on her cheek still. "I understand, Akihiro. I'm just scared because . . . what if m-my nightmares started because I showed how I felt to you? What if the voices that I sometimes hear started appearing b-because I couldn't keep my feelings for you a secret? Does that mean . . . I caused all this trouble?"

"No, Sayori, you didn't," said Akihiro firmly, "and I don't want you thinking that way, okay? Besides, I'm glad that you showed me how you felt about me. It made me realize how I also felt about you."

"Why? What k-kind of feelings did you have for me then, Akihiro?"

Again, Akihiro stroked Sayori's cheek with his thumb. "Well, it's like I said. Even if I like messing around with you, you're still an important person to me, Sayori, even more so now that you're my girlfriend. I've always liked you, even if I didn't show it too much before because we've gotten so used to treating each other as best friends. But still, I believe that even if I'm your boyfriend now, we still get to goof off and have fun like we did as childhood buddies, and I want you to keep that in mind all the time, okay? I just want you to be happy like you've always been with me, and I don't want that to fade just because you showed that you have feelings for me. Nothing's gonna change, I promise you that."

"I'll try to keep that in mind. And I'll do my best to make you happy, too!" said Sayori determinedly.

"I know you can do that, Sayori, especially when you put your mind into it. You're a girl who's capable of a lot of things."

"You're j-just pulling my leg, Akihiro," Sayori mumbled.

"Now, now, don't say that, especially where Mrs. Cow and the others can hear you!" said Akihiro, tutting.

"I've already told you before. He's '_Mr_. Cow,' okay?" Sayori shot back, giggling.

* * *

Later that night, back at his apartment, Akihiro rubbed his eyes tiredly as he put closed his notebook. The first half of the day had been taxing indeed, but more because of what happened at school instead of what happened with Sayori. His shoulders still bore a bit of strain from the strenuous game of basketball he participated in for P.E., and his mind sagged with stress from the lapses their group leader had made with the research notes they should have been submitting for Social Studies. Still, like he had told Sayori, days like this do happen, and the only thing he could do was shrug things off and move on to the next day hoping for the better. At the very least, he was glad that the latter half of the day brightened his mood thanks to Sayori's efforts and presence.

He stood up to go to the bathroom in order to wash up and brush his teeth when his cellphone suddenly began ringing. Frowning, he took a look and saw that Sayori was the one calling. He answered it quickly, wondering what was up.

"Hello?"

His heart took a bit of a drop when he heard how quiet Sayori's voice was. "Akihiro . . ."

"Sayori? What is it? Is something wrong?" he asked, becoming alert all of a sudden.

Sayori seemed to struggle to find the right words to say. "I . . . I'm . . ."

"Yes, what is it?" asked Akihiro again, urging her on.

Her next reply sounded deeply embarrassed. "I just . . . miss you. That's all. . ."

Akihiro paused for a moment, taking in what she had just said. "Sayori, you know I've only been gone for a couple of hours, right?"

"I know, I know. It's just that w-when you left, everything just felt . . . sad again. . . And I'm a b-bit scared to go to sleep alone. . . I mean, w-what if I have another nightmare, r-right? I'm sorry. I just d-don't know what to do. . ."

Akihiro glanced at the wall clock in his room; the hands showed a quarter past eight. _Plenty of time_.

"I understand. I'll talk to you, but is it okay if I go to the bathroom for a bit? I'm just gonna wash up and brush my teeth. I'll call you back when I'm done."

"Oh, of course! T-Take all the time you need, okay? I'll just clean up a bit here as well."

"Sure thing, Sayori."

* * *

As she finished dressing up, drying her hair with her towel, Sayori felt dejected. She had been perfectly fine when Akihiro had left her apartment unit to go back home, and she even managed to complete what little homework they had been given for the day. Once she found that she had nothing else to do, though, her heart suddenly began sagging with a profound sadness as she stared around her room. Only her stuffed animals kept her company, and while their presence and the arrival of Mr. Cow made everything a little better, they couldn't speak to her, nor could they give her the assurance she needed whenever her spirits flagged.

She cursed the sadness and anxiety she was feeling for making her call Akihiro again. What if she was only imagining things? What if she just had nothing better to do so she decided to disturb Akihiro? _He definitely sounded like he was busy. I shouldn't have disturbed him. Why did I have to go and call him? I could've waited for this to pass_. Sayori let out a long and ragged sigh, feeling more ashamed with each passing second.

_Yes, you shouldn't have disturbed him._

Sayori looked up. _No, he told me that if I needed him, I—_

_He was busy, and you know it. And yet you decided to go ahead and waste his time on you._

_I'm not wasting his time._

_You are. He lied to you._

_Stop it, that's not true!_

_He's annoyed with you. He won't call you back. Just deal with this by yourself._

Sayori shook her head. Moments like these were even more dreadful than her nightmares. Try as she might to remember the comforting words of encouragement and reassurance that people like Monika and Akihiro gave her earlier, other voices had different things to say—voices that belonged to no one, voices that she was starting to become too familiar with. In her mind and heart, it felt as if the cold and distant Akihiro that lived in her nightmares had manifested into a disembodied chorus of loathing and deprecation.

_You should've just kept quiet. None of this would've happened if you just kept quiet._

_Look at yourself. Akihiro has better things to do than stick around you._

Sayori plopped down on her bed, burying her face in her towel. _Please, just go away. Go away. Go away. . ._

Her cellphone beeped once. Sayori picked it up from her end table and saw a text message from Akihiro.

"_i'm coming over, just taking care of a few things here_"

Sayori sat up straighter, her mind going into overdrive. What in the world was Akihiro doing all of a sudden? She had been expecting him to say that he was done cleaning up and was free to talk to her again, but this? It was like when he surprised her at breakfast a couple of months ago, arriving at her doorstep carrying groceries for the two of them to prepare and eat. If Akihiro pulled another stunt like that and showed up unexpectedly right now carrying his things without telling her, Sayori would have become a hundred times more flustered at the sight of him.

She texted back hastily, "_no, i'm fine, u can just call me!_ :("

"_no, i want 2 keep u company tonight, i don't want u 2 go thru this alone again ok?_"

The voices started whispering again. _See? What a troublesome little girl you are._

Knowing that replying with another text was too slow, Sayori dialed up Akihiro's number instead. When he answered, she immediately blurted out, "No, Akihiro, don't come over! It's already late in the evening!"

"Sayori, I made up my mind already," said Akihiro seriously. "There's nothing wrong with it, okay? Your place isn't that far, I can make it there in ten minutes tops."

_Making him go through all this trouble. How could you?_

"No, I'm alright! You d-don't have to worry about me right now!"

_Learn to keep your mouth shut next time._

"Sayori—"

"I said don't come over here!"

Silence followed her outcry. Even Sayori was surprised at how angry her voice seemed to be. Akihiro didn't speak, and she wondered for a moment whether she had offended him without her immediately realizing it. She swallowed, feeling quick tears form on her eyes.

"A-Akihiro, I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling a little. "I didn't m-mean to shout like that. . ."

It took a few more seconds for Akihiro to reply. When he spoke, his voice was calm. "It's okay, Sayori. If you don't want me to come over, I understand. I'm just worried about you again, when you said that you're scared of going to sleep. T-That's all."

The way Akihiro's voice shook at the end of his reply broke Sayori's heart a little. In her ears, he sounded hurt, and she blamed herself for it. After all, Akihiro was only doing what he promised to do. Out of the blue, Monika's words earlier that day came floating back to her.

_Your happiness is his priority, just like his wellbeing is yours_.

Sayori bit her lip. _If I could just be happy every day, these thoughts would stop, and he wouldn't need to worry about me all the time. He wouldn't waste his time trying to make me feel better for every single second if he has nothing to worry about._

"I understand, Akihiro. B-But you don't have to come rushing over every t-time I'm not feeling okay, alright? I'll be fine on my own. I promise."

Akihiro paused for a moment. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes," replied Sayori with a bit of determination. "Let's just t-talk for a few more minutes, and then afterwards, m-maybe we can both try going to sleep."

Sayori heard him sigh. Again, in her hearing, it sounded as if he was more tired of her than he would like to admit. It was always so hard to tell. "Well, if you say so," he replied silently. "I just hope you'll be able to sleep properly this time around."

"I hope so, too. . ." Sayori told him.

* * *

The hallway seemed to move as Sayori kept running through it. Her legs burned and screamed for her to stop, but the fear that was spurring her onward defied any order or hesitation. The floor felt as if it would give way with each stride she took, and the walls seemed to be closing in. Darkness prevailed everywhere. Try as she might, she could not see what was behind her or in front of her. All she knew was that she had to keep running, lest she fall through the floor and into a void of nothingness or be crushed by the shrinking walls all around her.

Suddenly, the hallway vanished, and Sayori plummeted downwards. The scream that poured out from her throat echoed distantly. She clawed at the air, trying desperately to cling onto something and stop herself from freefalling, but it was no use. Below, the abyss came rushing up to meet her like a gaping maw, bottomless, formless.

Sayori woke up with a start, looking around in terror at the walls of her room. When she realized where she actually was, she calmed down considerably. _Another nightmare_.

She sat up straighter and waited for her breathing to ease down. A cold sweat had broken out all over her face, and she wiped it with her bedsheets. When she squinted at her wall clock in the darkness, she saw that it was five in the morning. Instinctively, she picked up her cellphone from her end table to tell Akihiro about what just happened.

As she did so, however, a soft buzzing began filling her ears—disembodied voices, like whispers in the wind, so alien and yet so familiar.

Sayori stopped. There were no coherent words to be heard, but she knew what the noise signified, and they only seemed to grow louder and clearer the longer she held onto her phone. In her head, she repeated the words she had imagined earlier that night.

_If I could just be happy every day, these thoughts would stop, and he wouldn't need to worry about me all the time._

Slowly, Sayori put her cellphone back on her end table. Lying back down, she covered her face with her hands and cried silently. As quick as they had come, the voices vanished.


	24. Chapter 24 - Your Own Escape

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – YOUR OWN ESCAPE (NatSuke)**

Various shades of yellow, orange and red mixed with the urbane colors of the city as the fall season set in. Though the first few batches of autumnal foliage began peppering parks and gardens all over the city, with some blown in by the chilly wind towards the sidewalks and streets, people everywhere saw this as a thing of beauty rather than unnecessary clutter. Some trees seemed reluctant still to turn their leaves yellow or orange, but it would only be a matter of time before they would follow suit to pave the way for winter. The air was now colder than usual even in the afternoon, and there were times when the evenings required the use of warmer clothing even for just a short trip outside.

For Natsuki, autumn wasn't exactly a good season—she was more prone to the cold than most of the people she knew because of her petite frame, and it only grew worse as winter closed in. Still, she appreciated the splendor that came with it as she walked to and from school, and during the times that she saw the entire city in its urbane glory from the school's rooftop or from higher floors. Other students seemed to enjoy the view from the rooftop as well; more of them started going up to eat their packed lunches there. Natsuki joined them at times with Daisuke whenever their favorite spot by the open field was occupied, sitting by the relatively secluded spot where she ate her lunches back when she was avoiding him.

It was no different today—because their bench was once again occupied, the two of them ate lunch at the rooftop before going over to the balustrades to watch the view while they discussed more manga. Daisuke was now nearing the end of _Parfait Girls_, while Natsuki was tackling a new shoujo series that Daisuke had showed her, named _Bubblegum Rocket Club_.

"You know I'm gonna break both of your arms if you drop my copy off the ledge, right?" asked Natsuki, watching Daisuke read.

"Then I'll make sure not to do that," said Daisuke with a chuckle.

"How'd you even find this series?" she inquired, reading another page off of _Bubblegum Rocket Club_. "It's actually really good, though not as good as _Parfait Girls_, of course."

"Just something I saw while I was in the bookstore last week," replied Daisuke. "Took a peek, liked what I saw, and I thought you'd like it as well."

"Well, you're not wrong," Natsuki mused. "Never thought you'd be really into a girly shoujo series like this because of _Parfait Girls_, though," she added slyly.

"Hey, come on, just because I'm a guy doesn't mean I don't enjoy a good shoujo read," Daisuke remarked.

"Or maybe you just like staring at all the pretty girls you find in them," said Natsuki. "Typical of guys like you."

Daisuke shrugged. "Why would I do that? I've already got you."

Natsuki blushed as she punched him in the arm. "Can you stop being gross? And don't you dare call me 'cute'!"

"I wasn't even going to!" laughed Daisuke as he rubbed his arm. "And why would you think that's even gross?"

Instead of answering, Natsuki only grumbled under her breath, still blushing. A short silence followed for a while. Other students set about admiring the view on the rooftop, while some made their way downstairs already. "Didn't you say that your mom's birthday is this Friday?" asked Natsuki after a while.

"Yeah," replied Daisuke. "I was actually thinking of buying her a gift tomorrow, but I dunno what to get her."

"If you want, I can help you find something," Natsuki told him. "I'm also planning on giving something to her."

"Oh, really?" Daisuke stared at her in wonder. "How come?"

"She's the one who's been preparing the meals that got me through lunchtime for a couple of months, so of course I need to give her something back as thanks, dummy." Natsuki sighed, closing her copy of _Bubblegum Rocket Club_. "It's embarrassing to think that she's been doing all that for me when I haven't even given her anything in return yet. If I get around to giving a gift, I'll add in a thank-you letter as well."

"Are you sure?" asked Daisuke. "Even if you don't give her anything, she's fine with helping you get by. Mom's like that, you know?

"I know, I know," said Natsuki irritably. "I just don't want your mom to think that I'm just coasting on her effort without thanking her or anything."

"Hey, don't worry too much about it, alright? If you really wanna give her something, why don't you just bake her some cupcakes again?" Daisuke offered. "She'll definitely love that."

Natsuki looked unsure. "That's what I've been thinking of. I've saved up some of my allowance for some ingredients, and I'll get it done in no time at all, but . . ."

"But what?"

"I just keep thinking . . . what if cupcakes aren't good enough? What if there's a better gift that I can buy?"

"Trust me, they're good enough," said Daisuke reassuringly. "Mom even told me that if she could bake like you can, she'd start selling them at the diner along with the meals she makes."

That made Natsuki blush again. "Well, if you s-say so. . . I'm gonna start working on them tonight. Shouldn't take me more than a couple of hours, and then I can just give them to you on Friday so you can hand them over to your mom."

"Wait, you're not gonna be the one giving them to her?" asked Daisuke, frowning.

Natsuki looked at him as if he was insane. "Of course not, duh! It's not like I'm gonna go to your place so that I can give them to her in person. That'd be really embarrassing!"

Daisuke looked slightly crestfallen. "Aww, really? I was actually thinking of inviting you over."

Natsuki's eyes widened. "What?"

Daisuke went on, "We're gonna be having a small party after the diner closes on Friday. There's only gonna be three of us there—four, if you come along. We're just gonna eat and celebrate a bit, nothing too extravagant, that's how Mom prefers it. If you don't want to, that's fine, of course!"

"But why the heck would you invite _me_?" Natsuki hissed.

"Well, Mom told me that if any of my friends wanna come over, I can invite them. And to be honest, she really wants to meet you one of these days. She asks about you sometimes."

Sensing that Daisuke has surely told his mother about her no-lunch episodes back then, Natsuki knew it was a no-brainer that she would inquire about her through him. The thought made her even more embarrassed.

"Did you t-tell her how thankful I was for everything she's d-doing for me?"

"Yeah. She's just glad that you're managing to eat well with her help. She keeps asking me about why you skip breakfast and lunch sometimes, but I don't have any answers to give her for that. . ."

Natsuki sighed. There were days in the three months that had passed when she actually had no lunch or even snacks to bring at school, though she saw no point in telling Daisuke about them if she made sure not to have another near miss by almost passing out in his presence. As long as she managed to hold her hunger in long enough for her to reach lunchtime and be saved by the bento lunches that Daisuke's mother prepared for both of them, everything usually went well. The more she ate the food and appreciated the generosity that came with it all, Natsuki also started feeling a bond form between her and his mother, grateful as she was for her kindness even if they hadn't seen each other yet—it brought back certain memories that touched her a lot.

"Just tell her that I'm doing fine, okay?" she told Daisuke. "There are just some days when things aren't going well, but I've managed past them. With her help and yours, of c-course. . ."

"Don't mention it," said Daisuke, smiling. "So, if you wanna come over this Friday, just tell me. You don't have to go if you don't want to, but Mom's gonna be totes stoked if you do!"

"I'll t-think about it, okay?" Natsuki mused. "But I'm gonna be baking those cupcakes for sure, you can count on that."

* * *

Later that evening, back at her house, Natsuki deposited her school things in her room and went to the bathroom for a quick bath. Most of the baking supplies she had just bought downtown were now waiting in the kitchen; she had left them there for a while, musing that the coast was clear while her father was out. It was both a concern and an advantage that Natsuki didn't know where he was and thus what time he would be getting home, so she decided to just assume that he would be coming home early so that she would work quickly.

After dressing up, she went downstairs and set about preparing what she needed—bowls, spatulas, ingredients and such. Measuring cups stood ready to be filled with flour and sugar. Eggs, milk and some chocolate waited inside the refrigerator. In her mind, Natsuki looked back and knew that all the supplies she had bought required her to save up about three weeks' worth of her school allowance.

As she prepared to go to work, she remembered Daisuke's invitation. She knew that he meant well, and it made her consider actually going there to meet his mother for the first time. Of course, there was still the matter of being in front of his father and the older sister that he sometimes mentioned during their conversations, as well as the questions that might come her way about school and her friendship with Daisuke. Given how often Daisuke's mother had been helping her out, Natsuki sensed that everyone in their household has to be at least familiar with who she was by now. As someone who had no close friends for a great part of her school life, she found the thought rather intimidating—because she liked tackling her problems head-on all the time, it also made her feel insecure. Then again, Daisuke said that the event wouldn't be grand in any sense, so there was no need to worry about being scrutinized by an entire crowd of nosy or hostile relatives. Natsuki shook her head, deciding to forestall any decision until after the cupcakes were finished before overthinking about it ruined her focus and drive.

Soon, she was whisking and measuring away, wiping her hands clean occasionally on the frilly pink apron she had bought for herself long ago. Because they had no electric mixer in the kitchen, she had gotten used to mixing cupcake batter by hand during the previous times that she had baked cupcakes. It was a tiresome task at first, but she always dug deep and took it as some form of exercise for her arms and hands. Plus, the times when her hand felt tired from mixing helped her feel that she was putting in a lot of effort into her cupcakes indeed.

Whisk, mix, taste, adjust. It didn't take long for Natsuki to find her groove. Working alone during a time like this was always her ideal time to do what she wanted and needed—it saved her the uncomfortable experience of being watched by others, regardless of whether they showered her with praise or peppered her with criticism. A spoonful of sugar here, a pinch of salt there, some cocoa powder and vanilla extract to go with it, it all went smoothly. Compared to the four vanilla cupcakes she had made for Daisuke—which she had dubbed "catcakes" for the cute cat designs she had put—Natsuki decided to crank things up a notch and bake a good dozen this time, with six of them being vanilla and six of them being chocolate. In between mixing, she went over to the small oven they had and readied it through preheating.

Once this was done, Natsuki took out a cupcake tin from the nearby drawers, placed some cupcake wrappers in the molds, and started scooping the prepared batter in, carefully measuring by sight so as to make all the cupcakes equal in size. As soon as this was done, she took the time to wash up what utensils and bowls needed washing while the heat inside the oven rose to the desired temperature. A quick look at her phone told her that around forty-five minutes had elapsed. Natsuki grumbled, knowing that she could've done things in thirty minutes if she worked hard enough.

As soon as she placed the cupcake tin inside the oven, she heard the front door open. She let out a resigned sigh as she knew exactly who the newcomer was.

Her father walked into the kitchen, looking around with a tired, almost impassive look on his face. The polo shirt he was wearing was unbuttoned, and he smelled strongly of cigarette smoke. The odor always made Natsuki want to gag.

"Are you baking again?" he asked silently.

Natsuki tensed a little. "Yes, Dad."

"Where'd you get the money for the ingredients?"

She looked at him directly. It was always safer to look him in the eye and not seem like she was hiding anything. "From my friends. Group project for Home Economics," she lied.

Her father nodded. "I see. That's good. Better than spending your allowance on stuff like this," he muttered.

_You say that, and yet you never give me enough to get me by_. "Did you stop by the factory office again?" she asked.

He grimaced unpleasantly. "Bastards told me to come over, and now they're saying that they'll just call me back," he grumbled, suddenly flaring up. "If they don't want to give me the damn job, they should just tell me to my face instead of making me go back and forth every damn day!"

Almost immediately, he turned his irritation towards her. "Don't spend too much of your allowance on this stuff all the time, alright? If your aunt wasn't nice enough to give us money, we'd be starving now!"

_You have no idea what it's like to starve, Dad_. Instead of blurting that out, however, Natsuki merely sighed. This was the third time in the past few months that her father had been rejected by the places he was applying for a job in. Their only means of sustenance in the meantime was some money and a few food items that her aunt gave them once every few weeks.

"You're not buying any more of those comic books, are you?" her father went on.

"No, Dad," she lied again, fighting to keep her voice steady as she anticipated what else would come. She focused her gaze onto the cupcakes in the kitchen, watching the oven's knob and imagining it tick like a time bomb.

He grunted with brusque approval. "Good. It's bad enough that we have to buy you books for school. You don't need childish crap like that."

Natsuki felt her heart break a little. Her father knew that she bought manga in the past by saving up some of her allowance, but ever since things started going even further downhill for them, he had started cracking down on any new manga that she bought. Conversations like this were no longer new to her, but they always hurt whenever they did happen.

"Yes, Dad," she muttered.

Thankfully, her father seemed to think better than to ask or say anything more. Instead, he ambled out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. There was no mention of dinner at all. Natsuki waited until his footsteps faded from her hearing before letting out a ragged breath. Alone again, she walked over to the oven and squatted down in front of it, watching the cupcakes bake in somber silence.

* * *

Making sure that he wasn't leaving the wrapped present he had bought yesterday inside his locker, Daisuke ran through his things one more time before closing his locker door. As she had suggested, Natsuki accompanied him yesterday at the mall to find a suitable gift for his mother. It took them around an hour and some visits inside a number of stores and boutiques before the two of them settled on a silver necklace bearing a rose-shaped pendant and a matching bracelet. Though Daisuke had expected Natsuki to be in charge of what they would choose for his mother, she relayed her opinions as suggestions instead of offering them in an authoritative way that was typical of her whenever she was in a crabby mood. Daisuke didn't mind this one bit, though he was slightly concerned at how subdued Natsuki seemed to be at the time.

Her mood continued even today, as she didn't have much to say during their lunchtime manga discussion. She had arrived to school carrying a rectangular gift box wrapped in bubblegum pink paper and tied with a white ribbon—Daisuke knew that inside this box were the cupcakes she would be giving as a gift. A few of their classmates had asked what she was carrying, but Natsuki shrugged them off as she stowed the gift away in her locker for the day. At first, Daisuke had been worried about the idea of locking away cupcakes and possibly causing them to spoil, but Natsuki had been quick to shut down such a notion.

"Cupcakes keep good within four days to one week of the time they were baked if they're refrigerated and kept in the proper containers and such," she stated as she took the gift box out of her locker carefully. "If you keep them in the freezer, they can even last for a month at most! But again, that's only if you know how to store them properly."

Daisuke smiled, marveling at Natsuki's cupcake-baking knowledge. "Well, I should've known better than to doubt you of all people when it comes to cupcakes."

Natsuki, on the other hand, frowned at him. "Hey, I don't claim to be a cupcake master or something, alright? I just wanted to share what I know so that you don't have to worry about these cupcakes. B-Besides, I want them to be just as good as the lunches your mom has been preparing for me."

"I'm sure those cupcakes are gonna be as awesome as the ones you made last time," said Daisuke. "So . . . you can just give me the box and your thank-you letter, and I'll just bring them over."

"What do you mean?"

"You're not coming over, right?"

Natsuki bit her lip. "Well, to be honest . . . I forgot to write a thank-you letter."

"Oh, d'you wanna write one now before we go? Just make it short, I guess."

"No, I think it'd be better if . . ."

Natsuki's voice trailed off into an incoherent mumble, as if she didn't want to speak the rest of her words out loud. "What was that?" asked Daisuke.

"I said it'd be better if . . ." Again, Natsuki murmured the last part of her sentence in an unintelligible jumble.

"Natsuki, you have to speak up. I can't quite hear you," he told her. She sighed, her face scrunching up with both embarrassment and annoyance.

"I'm gonna go with you, alright?!"

Daisuke stared at her for a moment. Though he knew that he had invited her to come over if she wanted, he had expected her to refuse after the subdued mood she had since yesterday. "But I thought—" he began, but Natsuki cut him off.

"I've been giving it some thought earlier, and I decided that it's better than coming home early and doing nothing," she said sullenly. "My dad usually comes home very late on Fridays, so he won't mind. As long as I don't s-spend too much, that is. . ."

Daisuke frowned thoughtfully, wondering whether something was up at Natsuki's home, or if she was just accepting his invitation so as not to make him feel bad. The look in Natsuki's beautiful pink eyes, however, told him that she was dead serious about this, and he knew better at this point in their friendship than to argue with a serious Natsuki.

"Well, if you're sure, then let's go," he said cordially.

* * *

The family diner was connected to a small two-story house, its walls colored with pale red paint, its roof made of simple dark grey tin. The house itself was adorned with a number of small glass windows covered by white curtains from the inside, with a couple of wall lights flanking the front door. The diner, on the other hand, had a larger window that allowed passersby to catch a glimpse of its interior, and some potted plants up front to make it appear more inviting. Hanging above the entrance was a simple wooden sign that read _Matsuda Eatery_ in kanji.

Daisuke walked over to the diner's door and opened it before looking back over his shoulder at Natsuki. "Come on," he said with a smile.

Now having second thoughts, Natsuki hesitated as she looked at the diner, wondering what kind of situation or conversation was waiting for her inside. Still, she'd gotten this far, and she knew it would be extremely rude to skive off now. She sighed, staring down at her wrapped gift for a moment. "Yes," she said quietly.

Together, the two of them went inside. The interior of the diner was small but cozy, with simple wooden tables flanked by matching chairs. The walls, which were covered in light orange wallpaper, were decorated with both simple paintings and some wall lights. The doorway leading to the kitchen stood next to the main counter where the cash register was, and just above the counter hung the diner's menu, showing a number of simple bento rice meals and ramen recipes. Natsuki recognized some of the meals from what she and Daisuke had eaten for lunch in the past.

There were no more customers inside the diner when they arrived. Natsuki surmised that the diner's business hours ended early for today in anticipation of the upcoming birthday celebration. Daisuke led the way towards the kitchen, opening the door and peeking inside. Just before he entered, he signaled her to hide the cupcakes over at the counter, intending for her to give them later as a surprise. Natsuki followed his instructions dutifully, observing the diner's ambience as she went. When she heard an exclamation of pleasant surprise come from within the kitchen, she looked towards the doorway just as a woman came out of it.

Immediately, Natsuki saw from whom Daisuke had inherited his amber eyes and blonde hair. His mother was shorter than he was, though still taller than Natsuki, and as beautiful as Daisuke was handsome. She was wearing a simple white dress with a sky blue apron on top, with her white slip-on shoes making quiet tapping noises against the wooden floor as she walked towards Natsuki quickly.

"Hello there, young lady!" she said cheerfully. "I take it that you're Daisuke's friend, Natsuki?"

Natsuki smiled. "Yes, ma'am, that's me," she said politely.

"Ah, so you're Dai's friend from school, eh?" rang another female voice from the kitchen. Natsuki looked over and saw a teenaged girl peeking out from the doorway. Like Daisuke and Mrs. Matsuda, she had wavy blonde hair and a pretty face, though her eyes were brown instead of amber, and her hair was cut a lot shorter than even Daisuke's, giving her a boyish look. Though she had never seen her before as well, Natsuki guessed that she was Daisuke's elder sister Hiroko.

"Yes, nice to meet you," she told her with a courteous nod.

"Likewise!" said the girl, waving her hand in greeting before quickly retreating back into the kitchen.

"I was in the kitchen preparing a few things with Hiroko over there when Daisuke here suddenly popped in, saying that there was someone I needed to meet," said Mrs. Matsuda genially. "It's good to finally meet you in person, my dear!"

"You, too, ma'am," said Natsuki, "and happy birthday."

"I know I said it earlier this morning, but yeah, happy birthday, Mom!" Daisuke added, giving his mother a kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you so much, you two," said Mrs. Matsuda happily. "Now, Daisuke, if you don't mind, go on ahead and help your sister in the kitchen, okay? I'll join you as soon as I get some extra ingredients from the house."

In the next thirty minutes that followed, Natsuki decided to settle down by sitting quietly on one of the diner's chairs. She had wanted to help in the kitchen so as not to seem like a freeloader, but both Mrs. Matsuda and Daisuke would have none of it, pointing out that she was a guest. And so, Natsuki waited for them patiently and nervously as they prepared food. Soon, her stomach began to rumble slightly as she smelled a variety of delicious odors wafting from the kitchen.

When it was time to eat, Daisuke and his sister took turns preparing the table where they would be eating. The fare was simple but heavenly all the same: pork teriyaki, mapo tofu and stir-fried vegetables, all served with some fried rice. Natsuki was familiar with all three recipes, but that was no reason for her to not enjoy them immensely, especially since Mrs. Matsuda's cooking was consistently excellent. Though Natsuki was conscious of the idea of being seated with Daisuke's family, it didn't take long before she began to feel comfortable, thanks in no small part to Daisuke's efforts to talk to her and the openness with which his family conversed with one another and with her, making her feel as if she had known them for a long time now.

As time passed, Natsuki began forming initial impressions of Daisuke's family for her to mull on. Mrs. Matsuda was very affable, though Natsuki could see a bit of tiredness behind her eyes that told her of a woman who worked and strove hard underneath her jovial exterior. Hiroko, meanwhile, provided much of the humor in the conversation with her candidness and her witty remarks, causing Natsuki to immediately warm up to her—being only a couple of years older than her and Daisuke, Hiroko didn't have any difficulty bonding with them as a fellow teenager. Daisuke, of course, was his own laid-back and good-natured self, and Natsuki didn't mind that one bit. She expected Mr. Matsuda to arrive at any moment and meet her for the first time as well, but Natsuki did not worry about the thought too much, for she no longer felt as nervous as she was when she arrived.

The dinner was capped off with a surprise birthday cake brought out by Hiroko from the kitchen, while Daisuke took this time to also surprise his mother with the gifts that he and Natsuki had brought. When Daisuke told her that Natsuki had baked some cupcakes for the occasion, Mrs. Matsuda became pleasantly surprised indeed, and explained how she found Natsuki's baking to be worthy of a spot in a pastry shop. Hiroko, who had just tasted the cupcakes for the first time, also complimented her baking and remarked how she wouldn't mind getting fat from eating more of them. Not used to such praised being heaped on her work, Natsuki felt both proud and embarrassed, especially when Daisuke looked at her and winked.

After the celebration, Natsuki walked quietly beside Daisuke, who had volunteered to accompany her at the nearest street corner and see her off. He wanted to go with her all the way to her house, but she refused adamantly, wondering with anxiousness about how her father would react to seeing her with a boy—assuming he was already at home.

"That was great," Natsuki told him as they walked. "I mean, really, I enjoyed myself. Thanks for inviting me."

"You're very much welcome," said Daisuke. "Remember what Mom said, okay? You're not exactly a stranger to us, so you can come over any time you want. If you want, we can grab a bite at the diner after school in the future!"

"That does sound nice," said Natsuki, nodding. "Anyway, I wasn't expecting both your mom and your sister to be so neat. I mean, your mom's definitely a given, but your sister? I was expecting her to be a bit . . . bossier, from what you've told me about her before."

"Well, if it's related to her part-time work, she can be really serious," Daisuke stated, "but she's totally chill when it's at home or at the diner. I'm glad you two got along, even if it was at my expense sometimes," he added with a chuckle.

Natsuki laughed with him, remembering some of the jokes that she and Hiroko made about Daisuke while they ate. As always, Daisuke was a good sport about it. Just then, she remembered something. "Why was your dad not around? Is he still at work?"

Daisuke fell silent. When he didn't reply for a few seconds longer than usual, Natsuki looked at him. "What is it?" she asked.

"Well . . . it's something that I haven't told you about before."

Natsuki stared at him. She could tell that Daisuke was always more than willing to share things about him, so she found it odd that he would be withholding something from her. Still, she was fine with it, seeing as how she had her own secrets to keep.

"Do you wanna tell me now, or . . . ?" she asked.

"Well, I guess I'll tell you now. I mean, I didn't talk about it before because I figured that there wasn't that much of a need to." Daisuke gave her a sad smile. "The thing is . . . Mom and Dad, they're . . . divorced."

Natsuki felt her heart drop, taking in the gravity of what he had just stated. All of a sudden, as she imagined everything, she looked back in her mind at Mrs. Matsuda's kind-natured face and remembered the tired look behind her eyes once more.

When she didn't say anything, Daisuke went on with a short laugh, "Sorry about that. Not the best of topics, I know."

"No, I . . . I'm sorry to hear about that," Natsuki managed.

"It's okay. They've been divorced for about four years now. Made things a bit more complicated, lemme tell you."

Natsuki did not know how a divorce that broke a family could complicate things just "a bit," but she imagined that maybe Daisuke just didn't want to think about it all too much, hence he chose to speak rather lightly of it. Out of curiosity, she wanted to ask more, but she knew that such things were too private to be asked about, even between good friends. Daisuke, however, continued for her.

"You see, Mom found out that Dad was seeing another woman. She took it rather well—I mean, she was really frustrated about it, but she didn't do anything rash like tracking down the woman or attacking Dad for it. Hiroko wanted to, but Mom stopped her. It was a hard time for us three back then. Dad was trying to do his best to talk to us, but Mom told him that it would be better if they settled it legally after things died down. Looking back at everything . . . it's just surreal for me. Like it happened a lifetime ago."

Their pace slowed down as they continued walking. The chilly air of the evening seemed to bite a bit deeper now. Natsuki marveled at the way Daisuke spoke about it all—as if he had definitely moved on from it. She wondered if it was the same for his mother and sister now.

"Does your dad come to visit?" she asked tentatively.

"Not really," replied Daisuke. "Mom was okay with him visiting, but I guess he just didn't want to show his face around here that much after what happened. I want to think that it's more out of shame than the idea that he doesn't want to see us anymore."

_No father around_. Given her situation at home, Natsuki didn't know whether to envy or pity Daisuke. Spending time with his family earlier had made her very happy, since it was probably the first time in a very long time that she actually felt what it's like to be part of a happy home. Then again, it also made her remember her own mother and of times long past, times that seemed like distant memories from another lifetime now, echoing Daisuke's words.

When the two of them reached the street corner, Daisuke turned to Natsuki. "Well, here we are. Are you sure you're gonna be fine walking home on your own?"

"Yeah, I'll manage," replied Natsuki. "You always ask me that even if you know what I'm gonna say already."

Daisuke shrugged. "It may seem like a futile exercise, sure, but I just wanna make sure you're okay," he remarked, chuckling.

"You're really not gonna stop doing that, are you?" she asked, blushing a little.

"I'm just looking out for you, okay? Besides, I could see earlier that there's something you're thinking about. Is everything really okay?"

Natsuki jerked slightly, caught off guard again by Daisuke's near-uncanny intuition for anything involving how she felt. "Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better now after going to your place," she admitted. "Things just got hairy again at home for the past two days, that's all. Stress gets to me sometimes."

Silence fell for a few moments. Daisuke walked closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I understand. I know you're a strong girl who doesn't like being helped, Natsuki, but I know that there are times when things just get too rough. Whenever that happens, just talk to me, okay? I'll do what I can to help you out."

Natsuki looked at him imploringly. "You really like saying embarrassing things, d-don't you?" she stammered.

"What's embarrassing about that?" asked Daisuke with an amused grin.

Natsuki sighed, slightly annoyed. "You're always so nice to me, and it j-just bothers me sometimes, b-because . . ."

Daisuke raised his eyebrows. "Because?"

She looked up and stared directly into his eyes, knowing that if she would ever tell him something like what she was about to say, she should at least do it with her head held high. "It's r-really sweet, okay? I'm not used to anything like this, so it feels weird. Whenever I feel bothered or down, manga and baking are the things I go to in order to feel better. I've never gone to a person before and felt this . . . happy. I might be making a big deal out of this, but I can't do anything about it, especially since . . . t-there are times when you're . . . y-you're all I think about."

She paused for a moment. Realizing just how embarrassing her thoughts and words were, she punched him in the arm. Daisuke let out a cry of both surprise and pain. "Hey, I didn't even do anything!" he exclaimed, rubbing his arm.

"That's for making me say all that!" she blurted out.

"Natsuki, you know I didn't make you say all that," said Daisuke indignantly.

The truth of his statement made Natsuki bite her lip. In lieu of a reply, she leapt towards him and embraced him tightly.

In spite of his average-looking frame, Daisuke was a lot sturdier than he looked, with his torso hardly moving from the impact of her hug. Then again, Natsuki mused that perhaps it was because she was so light that her weight barely registered anything. Their height difference also meant that her head was only level with his chest, but she didn't mind one bit, especially when she soon felt Daisuke's arms embrace her in return.

When she broke free, she looked straight into his eyes again. "Making me say and do all these cheesy things . . . I hope you're happy," she muttered petulantly.

"You do realize that you just said and did all that on your own, right?" said Daisuke, smiling.

She blushed furiously, unable to look away from Daisuke's poignant amber eyes. Daisuke, on the other hand, seemed also speechless and incapable of tearing his gaze away from her.

"I have to go," she said with a huff. "I'll just see you at school on Monday, then."

"Why do we have to wait until then?" asked Daisuke. "Don't you wanna meet tomorrow or Sunday?"

"I'll think about it," she replied. "Thanks again for today, dummy."

"Any time," Daisuke responded softly.

Natsuki wanted to say more, but her heart was beating so fast that she couldn't manage to form another sentence. Instead, she turned away and walked down the street towards the direction of home. Daisuke, in turn, began walking back towards his house; his form soon receded into the distance as Natsuki looked back towards him. The sensation of his arms embracing her still lingered on her body and mind, and she knew that it would be another thing she would be thinking about later.

She slowed down her pace, her mind wandering back towards all the time that she had spent with Daisuke, about how it all led up to this. She remembered his sketch of her, and all the occasions that he offered her a helping hand without even being asked to. She remembered how he had rushed off to get her some food when she nearly collapsed, and how he had never faltered in keeping watch over her since then. She looked back to their first encounter and marveled at how much things have changed between them, from being an unlikely pair of friends to being . . . _this_. In her eyes, Daisuke was a handsome shoujo protagonist come to life, and she was the girl who was being inevitably drawn towards him.

Natsuki smiled to herself. It all sounded a lot like a typical anime cliché, but she didn't care one bit, not when it made her this happy.


	25. Chapter 25 - The Lady's Plan

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – THE LADY'S PLAN (MoniKenta)**

"Alright, see you guys tomorrow! And good work to each and every one of you!"

As the other debate club members filed out of the clubroom, Monika watched them go with both joy and relief. Their latest participation in an interschool debate competition yesterday had paid off after some of their junior members and one of their senior members had won first place. Monika felt proud, knowing just how much effort the rest of the club had put into researching and gathering data for those who competed, and how much it meant to the junior members to score such a big win. She only wished that they stopped giving her so much credit for an accomplishment that they had more of a hand in making happen than she did—she was, after all, only the club leader, and her role had been to mostly help them along their way instead of being on the stage with them during the event itself.

She waited until most of them were gone before she started packing up her things. Most of the time, she was the last person to leave the clubroom, always making sure that no one forgot anything inside and checking to see if everything was in its proper place.

"Mind if I speak with you for a while?"

Monika turned around. She knew who the speaker was, though she was admittedly surprised that he still lingered inside the clubroom after the meeting. "Of course, Takeo," she replied, looking up to face him from where she was sitting and arranging her things.

Takeo sat down in the chair next to her, smiling coolly. "Good thing those juniors managed to get by in that competition yesterday," he said. "But this means that we'll have to double down in preparation for future competitions, as always. Our professors are expecting constant diligence and effort from us, and it won't do if we disappoint them and commit mistakes by being complacent."

Monika let out a small sigh. As a firm believer of the club's superiority over other groups in other schools, Takeo was always quick to point out that there was simply no rest for the debate club when it came to interschool events. He relished debate victories as much as anyone else in the club did, but he never dwelt for too long on them, instead using them to push the others to do even better. Monika understood his logic and how it meant well, but there were times when his no-nonsense work ethic began to take its toll on the club—and her as well.

"I agree," she said. "Well, we'll just have to do our best to lead them forward, right?"

"Of course," said Takeo, nodding. "As long as everyone plays their part, there will be no trouble with that."

"They always do, so I guess there's no need to worry about that," said Monika. "Right now, though, everyone should get a well-deserved break."

"Perhaps," said Takeo. He paused for a moment before continuing. "So, Monika . . . if you're not doing anything after this, I was wondering if you'd like to go somewhere. We could grab a bite or something if you want. Or we could just go hang out wherever you'd like."

Monika looked at him. What Takeo was doing right now reminded her of a similar scenario last year: just the two of them, alone after a club meeting during her first few weeks of being a member of the debate club. Being a year older than her, Takeo always exuded confidence, and it was with that same confidence that he had asked her out last year like this. If another girl had been in her place, they would be more inclined to accept, Monika mused. Takeo was as handsome as he was smart, and she knew quite a few of her friends in the debate club who looked at him with more than simple admiration.

Though the circumstances were slightly different now, her answer remained the same. Monika smiled politely. "I'm sorry, Takeo. I already have plans for today."

Takeo smiled back, though she could sense his disappointment beneath his pale blue eyes. "I see. That's alright, I was just thinking that maybe you'd like to unwind after the grueling days we just had."

"I appreciate your invitation, Takeo," Monika told him. "Just not today, I guess."

"It's okay," said Takeo. "There's always a next time."

"We'll see." Monika stood up. "Anyway, I have to get going. I still need to go downtown. How about you?"

"I suppose I'll be leaving as well now," said Takeo, also standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Okay, take care!"

Before Monika managed to go out the clubroom's door, however, Takeo spoke up again.

"You're seeing someone else, aren't you?"

Takeo's voice was casual and friendly, if a bit formal. Though his invitation to go out didn't surprise Monika that much after being asked out by other males before, his new question did give her pause. She stopped and turned around to face him. Takeo looked professionally serious as he stood a few feet away from her, as if his query was merely part of another club meeting.

Monika decided to be honest. "Yes, Takeo," she said tentatively.

Takeo nodded. "I surmised as much." He paused for a bit before continuing. "Is it that garish redheaded guy from 3-C? The one you always hang around with nowadays?"

His tone remained casual, but once again, Monika could sense another emotion emanating from his being as he spoke his question. Of course, there was only one redheaded boy that could fit Takeo's question; Monika remembered the time when Takeo and Kenta first encountered each other, back when she had invited Kenta to answer a survey for the club's data-gathering. Takeo had been rather standoffish then with some pointed words for Kenta, though she didn't ask her vice president about them since things returned to normal after that day. With Takeo's current questions, along with the way he had just described Kenta, Monika seemed to understand better now why he had acted the way he did back then.

"Yes," said Monika. "Is there something wrong with that, Takeo?"

Takeo grinned. "Nothing's wrong," he said. "You two have been growing closer for the past months, so I believe that's really no surprise."

Monika stared at him for a few more moments, knowing that he was lying in order to appear as cordially professional as always. Though Takeo often exuded pure poise bordering on coolness, there were also moments when his façade would falter somewhat to give way to thinly veiled condescension and annoyance, especially when something that he particularly disliked came into question. Monika had observed this from some of their more strenuous club meetings in the past, and it formed part of the reasons why she sometimes felt more tired than usual after school. Then again, she also understood why he acted that way; like her, Takeo was one of the school's top students, and always strived to maintain an image as such.

Knowing that there was nothing else to say for now, Monika nodded at him. "Well, um, if it's alright with you, I'll be going now. Take care, okay?" she said warmly.

"Thanks," said Takeo, again with that casually friendly tone. "You take care as well."

* * *

Kenta was waiting next to the school gates with some of his classmates. The loudness of his laughter and voice made Monika smile, as it always did whenever she passed by in the corridors to hear him laughing and talking with his friends loudly. Quickening her pace, she called out to him cheerfully, "Kenta!"

Kenta's face lit up as he saw her. When his friends looked around to see her approach, they glanced at Kenta with knowing grins on their faces. Some of them greeted Monika casually as she approached, and she greeted them back with a smile and a wave.

"Alright, boys, I think we should leave our buddy alone here now," said one of them jokingly. "It's time."

"Stay strong and awesome, bro!" another quipped. "You've got this!"

"Godspeed, my friend!" said a third with a facetious bow.

"Alright, alright, that's enough out of you dolts," said Kenta, laughing as he waved his hand dismissively at them. "See ya all tomorrow!"

When everyone had gone, Kenta turned to Monika, blushing slightly. "Sorry about that," he said, chuckling nervously.

"It's okay," said Monika, beaming at him. "Let's go!"

Truth be told, this particular meetup excited Monika for a reason; her role in the debate club's preparation for the interschool debate competition meant that she was unable to go out with Kenta for quite some time, and even texting had been difficult because of the things that she needed to supervise and take care of after school hours. Ever supportive, Kenta let her take care of things, only texting her once every few days to cheer her on and remind her to take a break whenever things got too rough. It was a simple gesture, one that even seemed odd where Kenta was concerned, but Monika appreciated his support and how sweet it was of him. Now that everything had finally been settled, she was definitely eager to catch up with him on what they had missed out on, and she knew that Kenta felt the same.

"Congrats on leading your club to another victory," he told her, grinning as they walked down the street.

"Hey, it's not like I actually participated in this one," she reminded him, nudging him gently in the side.

"You told me back then how everyone did their part in things like this," said Kenta. "Reminds me of how it's not that different from varsity captains making sure a team's in tiptop shape, so yeah, you still deserve credit."

"Thanks," said Monika, smiling as she patted his arm.

Their return to the _Cocoa Connection _was different this time around. Instead of heading upstairs to sit in separate chairs at a table, Monika guided Kenta towards one of the loveseats on the chic bistro's first floor. Couples seeking shelter from the autumn cold had filled up most of the loveseats; Monika was thankful that the two of them had arrived relatively early; otherwise they wouldn't have had the chance to pick out a nice spot to sit in. The clerk on duty, who knew Monika as a frequent customer, looked at the two of them with a knowing grin on her face as they ordered from the counter. In spite of his nervousness, Kenta sat down willingly next to her on the loveseat they had chosen. Monika saw how the physical distance he usually maintained whenever they were next to each other was now gone, and it made her feel happy about how such a little change had a big effect on their time together.

"Y'know, this is all pretty weird for me," Kenta muttered as he mixed the blueberry cream cheese shake he ordered with a straw. "Back in middle school, I would've gone nuts if I managed to score a date with any of my crushes. Now that it's actually happening, I dunno if I can even go nuts."

Monika laughed. "Didn't you count our trips last time as dates?"

"Er, no," he replied, "but my dolt buddies called them that, though. They might've seemed like dates, but I didn't treat them like that—and basically, I didn't wanna jinx anything as well."

"I understand," she said smoothly, taking a small sip of her favorite almond milk macchiato. "Well, from now on, whenever we go out, it's a date, okay?"

As the two of them ate their respective beverages and took bites out of the cheesecake they ordered, Monika felt at peace with the world. Kenta relished her with stories about his own progress at school, and she returned the favor by telling him how the competition had gone. When they ran out of things to talk about regarding school stuff, their conversation soon shifted to more personal things.

"I talked to Takeo earlier," said Monika after a while.

"Oh, him again." Kenta scowled a little. "What else did he say? I hope he's no longer complaining about things to you guys."

"No, nothing like that. He just talked to me before I left the clubroom."

Kenta paused before speaking. "What did you two talk about?"

Monika glanced over at Kenta, shrugging. "He wanted to ask me out."

Kenta raised his eyebrows. "R-Really? What did you tell him?"

"I told him that I already had plans with you."

She watched as Kenta tensed nervously. Ever since the day she had invited him at her house, and after the surprisingly sincere conversation that the two of them had there, they slowly progressed into being more than simple friends. Monika had no intention of hiding so after everything she had told Kenta that day—in fact, she had never felt happier and freer than after she had spoken to him about it all. One of the things that happened afterwards which Monika could not control, however, was that it didn't escape most of their schoolmates' notice. When word spread of how one of the most popular girls in school was rumored to be going out with a boy as notorious as Kenta Yamaguchi of 3-C, Monika sensed that gossip was sure to follow.

She smiled, putting her arm around his. "It's okay. There's nothing wrong."

Kenta blinked, as if he had just broken free from a trance. "Y-Yeah, I know. I wasn't worried or anything. Just pretty surprised, that's all. . . I wonder what that dolt is thinking right now," he went on, chuckling. "Was it . . . Was it the first time he tried?"

Monika shook her head. "He tried a couple of times before last year, when I was still new to the debate club. Surprised me a bit back then, because I always thought that he didn't exactly fancy girls in lower years. I told him no, because he didn't strike me as my type. No one did."

"Oh. I see," said Kenta quietly.

Monika squeezed his arm tighter. "Except you, of course!" she added, giggling.

Kenta glanced at her nervously. "Am I really?"

"Of course!" Monika pouted. "There you go again, doubting yourself. What did I tell you about that?"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," said Kenta, laughing bashfully.

"That's alright," said Monika, laughing along with him. "You remind me of Sayori sometimes. Remember her and Akihiro?"

"They're the ones we saw at the mall that one time, right?" asked Kenta. "How are they?"

"Still going steady," said Monika. "Akihiro seems to be doing fine. I don't know about Sayori, though. . ."

"Why? Is there something wrong?"

"I don't know for sure. Whenever she talks to me, she's either really happy or really . . . lost, like she doesn't know what to do. But every time I try asking her about it, she tells me that it's nothing. I mean, I know Sayori, and I know that she's prone to spacing out or being forgetful sometimes, but . . . I don't know. Something's just a little off about the way she is right now. It makes me wonder if she had a fight with Akihiro or something."

"I hope they're alright," said Kenta. "I mean, I know it's pretty normal to quarrel in a relationship every now and then, but I hope it ain't anything too serious."

Monika sighed, glancing around at the other couples who were eating and drinking in the loveseats around them. Though very few showed their affection by cuddling and exchanging sweet words to one another, Monika could feel their joy and bliss. On the other hand, she couldn't help but imagine how many of them had gone through a rougher time with misunderstandings, and whether or not Sayori and Akihiro were going through such an experience right now. Kenta was right in saying that fights between even the closest of lovers were normal, but such matters could always be avoided, and she wanted to believe that they were a matter of _if _instead of _when_.

"I hope so as well," she mused.

At that moment, as if brought out on cue by their conversation, the _Cocoa Connection_'s front doors opened, and in walked Akihiro. He was still in his uniform, signifying that like her and Kenta, he had chosen to come to the bistro after school. Monika sat up straighter as she spotted him, anticipating that Sayori would not be far behind. She waited in vain, however; as the doors swung shut, she realized that Akihiro had come alone.

"What is it?" Kenta asked her, glancing over to where she was looking. "Oh, that's Akihiro, right?"

"Yeah, it is," said Monika. She stood up and waved, crying out, "Akihiro! Over here!"

Akihiro looked around, and a look of surprise formed on his face as he saw the two of them. "Hello there!" he called out, taking a detour towards their loveseat on his way to the counter.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Monika told him, smiling. She scooted over towards Kenta to make some room so that Akihiro can sit. "You remember Kenta, right?"

Kenta nodded, grinning as well. "How's it going?"

"I'm doing okay, thank you," said Akihiro, smiling back at them as he sat down. "I just got back from a friend's house for a group meeting for school. I was on my way home when I thought about going here to order some strawberry shortcake for Sayori. I thought it'd be a nice little surprise to give her."

"That's sweet of you," said Monika, "but I was actually expecting to see Sayori with you. Where is she?"

The smile on Akihiro's face faded a little. "She went home already. I was supposed to walk home with her like we always do, but she said she needed to take care of a few things as well. I'm going to her place later to check on her, so I decided to go here to buy her a little something."

Monika sighed. "We were just talking about you two, actually."

"You must've noticed it too, right?" said Akihiro a bit anxiously. "She's been on and off for the past week. She's been texting me just fine, and she seems to be doing okay in person, but it still feels weird. Anyway, I told her that if she feels like something's wrong, she can tell me about it."

Kenta leaned forward a little. "Pardon me for asking, but . . . does she do that? Tell you when there's something up, I mean?"

Akihiro looked at the two of them. Monika could see in his pale green eyes the relief he felt, presumably from the idea that he could finally voice his worries to someone. "Not all the time," he replied. "This happened before, and I know it might happen again. Of course, I can't force her to talk to me every time she's not okay, but I can't help but be worried sometimes, you know? I'm thinking sometimes if I should just stop and let her be, but . . . I can't."

He said all this with a bit of desperation in his voice. Monika felt for him; as her friend, she wanted Sayori to know that she could always count on her for help if she needed it; and though she was not as close with Akihiro as she was with Sayori or Kenta, he was still Sayori's closest friend, and for that she also wanted to help him make sure that things were okay.

Before she could say anything, though, Kenta spoke up again. "Well, it's alright to be worried about things like this," he told Akihiro kindly. "If it makes you feel any better, you're doing okay. Things like this happen, just like I told Monika a while ago, so it's also normal to worry about them. It just means that you're really looking out for your girlfriend, right? I know we're not that, er . . . close and all, so it might sound like I'm snooping in on something I shouldn't really be talking about with me giving you this advice, but I just . . . I just wanna help you two out."

Monika looked over at him, surprised by his words. She knew Kenta was often the guy whom no one would take seriously when the situation calls for it, mainly because of his past and based on face value. Privately, she half-expected him to be a little peeved by Akihiro's arrival and how it interrupted their date, given that he wasn't exactly one of his closer friends. Instead, Kenta was doing his best to sympathize with Akihiro and give what comfort he could, much like what he had done during the first few times that she went out with him.

"Kenta's right," she told Akihiro earnestly. "We know that you really care for Sayori the same way that she does for you. Don't let up, Akihiro. Sayori might need some space now and then, but that doesn't mean that you should just let her be. We're sure that even while you two aren't seeing each other, Sayori misses you and the times that you two go out. She might just be having trouble showing or saying how she feels."

Akihiro smiled in spite of the worry in his eyes. "Thanks, you two. I mean, really. It's been a bit tough, so I'm really glad to be able to talk to someone like this right now. I want Sayori to be happy, like she always has been. I'm just afraid that . . . that I might be doing something wrong after we got together and all."

A short silence followed his words. At that moment, a thought popped up inside Monika's head.

"If you want, Akihiro, we can all visit Sayori together!"

Akihiro looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean we can all go to her place tonight and surprise her with a visit," said Monika. "If I know Sayori, she's definitely the type of person who wants to be with her friends. Right now, she might be feeling a bit distant, but I'm guessing that a visit from us would help her feel better."

Akihiro's face lit up a little. "I think that'd be a good idea."

"Oh, would that be okay with you, Kenta?" asked Monika, glancing over at Kenta.

"Sure thing, no worries! We don't have anywhere else to go after this, so I'm down with it," said Kenta. "But, ah . . . I'm not too familiar with Sayori, so I dunno how she might react to me being there. If you guys want, I can just go with you there and then wait outside while—"

"No, it's alright!" said Akihiro quickly. "Sayori loves making new friends. I'm sure she'll be totally okay with you being there."

Kenta glanced at Monika, who gave him a reassuring nod and a smile. "W-Well, if you say so," he said, smiling back. "Should we get going?"

"Once we finish up here, we can go," said Monika. She turned to Akihiro. "Go ahead and order at the counter, Akihiro. We'll wait for you here!"

"Alright. Thanks, you two," said Akihiro gratefully.

* * *

Around fifteen minutes later, the three of them arrived in front of Sayori's apartment. Stray leaves from the trees up front crunched beneath their feet as they walked through the concrete pathway leading to the entrance. Akihiro led the way, carrying the small box containing two slices of strawberry shortcake he had bought from the _Cocoa Connection_. Behind him, Monika and Kenta followed dutifully; Monika had also ordered four lattes for each of them so that they would have something to drink.

When they reached Sayori's door, Akihiro knocked three times. "Sayori?" he called out.

"Just a minute!" came Sayori's voice from within her unit. After a few moments, the door opened. Sayori was still wearing her uniform, and she looked positively harried as she straightened up her blouse and smoothed out her skirt.

"I didn't know you'd be coming over, Aki—" she began breathlessly, but she stopped when she glanced up and saw Monika and Kenta.

"Hello, Sayori!" said Monika. "We came by to visit."

"Moni!" Sayori cried out excitedly, walking out of her room and into the hall to embrace Monika in greeting. "I didn't expect to see you here of all places!"

"Just thought of dropping by," said Monika, beaming at her.

Sayori glanced over at Kenta. "Hi, Kenta!" she said, inclining her head both nervously and cheerfully at him.

Kenta nodded back, grinning politely. "Hello, Sayori."

"What brings you three here?" asked Sayori, straightening her hair bow, which was slightly askew atop her hair.

"Kenta and I were having some coffee over at the _Cocoa Connection _when Akihiro showed up," replied Monika. "He told us that he was going to be ordering some strawberry shortcake for you as a surprise, so we kind of tagged along to pay you a visit."

Sayori looked both surprised and worried. "Again with the surprises, Akihiro!" she said, pouting at Akihiro. "You should've told me beforehand!"

"It wouldn't be a surprise then, Sayori," said Akihiro, laughing. "I didn't want to disturb you right away with a text. I was worried that you might be, you know. . . A-Anyway, can we come in?"

"Oh, of course!" said Sayori. "Come on in, guys!"

Sayori's apartment looked neat enough except for the notebooks and books that were scattered on top of her bed. Monika quickly went towards the windowsill, where there was a group of stuffed animals sitting on top of it like an audience watching over the unit.

"These are really cute, Sayori," Monika simpered as she picked up one of the stuffed animals. "Reminds me of the ones I used to have as a kid."

"I have Akihiro to thank for a few of them," said Sayori as she sat down on her bed, "especially for Mr. Cow over here!"

She gestured at the large stuffed cow sitting at the foot of her bed. Akihiro shook his head. "I told you before, Sayori, cows are female," he said amusedly.

Being the odd one out among the four of them, Kenta opted to stand by the door politely, leaning against the wall as he looked around at the others and the room. Sayori, who noticed this, quickly sat up straighter. "You can sit over there if you want, Kenta!" she cried out, pointing to the chairs that flanked the small table she had at her unit's kitchen area. "You don't have to stand, you know?"

Kenta waved his hand airily. "That's alright," he said. "Thanks for the offer."

Sayori pouted at Akihiro as if it was his fault that Kenta was left without a seat. "You didn't have to bring them here, Akihiro," she said petulantly. "Moni was having a fun evening out with Kenta over here and you told them to come along."

"Jeez, Sayori. . ." said Akihiro, scratching his head apologetically.

"Now, now, don't scold Akihiro for that, Sayori," said Monika with a giggle. "I was the one who asked to come along. Kenta and I didn't have anywhere else to go after our coffee date, so we decided that it was a good idea to drop by."

"Aha! So it was a date, hmm?" said Sayori, grinning knowingly. "I'm so happy for you two!"

Kenta blushed as he glanced at Monika, who smiled glowingly at him. "Well, when are you and Akihiro gonna be going out again, Sayori?" she asked.

Sayori looked nervously at Akihiro. "I don't know yet," she replied. "I've just been really busy with the project we have for Social Studies. I've been cranking up my research every night, so I don't know when I'll be free."

"It's alright, Sayori," said Akihiro as he sat down next to Sayori on the bed. "I'm just worried about you. There are times when you just seem . . . I dunno, sad or stressed."

Sayori smiled at him, holding his hand. "I'm fine, dummy," she told him. "I'm just really busy taking care of stuff sometimes, and I keep thinking about a lot of things so I'm pretty much spacing out most of the time. But I'm trying to be more responsible by doing everything on my own without disturbing you for help. Remember what I told you?"

"I know, I know," said Akihiro. "Just remember what I told you as well. If you need help, if you need company, don't hesitate to ask, okay?"

Kenta smiled as he watched the two speak to one another tenderly. Somehow, the idea of Sayori distancing herself from Akihiro didn't seem as bad as he imagined it to be now that they were gathered together like this, but then again, it might run deeper than what he and Monika might think. Even though he didn't know Sayori or Akihiro as well as he knew Monika or his best friends, Kenta felt for them and the little dilemmas that they were going through, and how they were trying their hardest to get through them. It reminded him of what he had told Monika before about talking to him when she needed to, and how Monika wanted the same from him regarding his problems. In a way, it was forging a bond between him and them.

"Akihiro's right," he told Sayori. "It's alright to bunker down and take care of stuff alone, but you don't have to carry everything by yourself. There'll always be people who are ready to help, just like Akihiro over there, because they're looking out for you. If you need to, don't hesitate to talk to him or to Monika."

"And you, Kenta?" asked Monika.

"And me, if you want," Kenta added with an apologetic grin.

Akihiro smiled back. "Thanks, Kenta."

"Wow," said Sayori with genuine amazement. "That's . . . That's r-really nice of you, Kenta. To be honest, I didn't expect you to be, um . . ."

"Friendly?" Kenta offered jokingly.

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" said Sayori quickly. "I mean, I always thought that you're the kind of guy who sticks only to his own group of friends."

"Don't worry, I get that a lot since middle school," Kenta acknowledged. "I know that you and Akihiro might not know me that well, but hey, who says I can't be friends with you two, right? Besides, any friend of Monika's is a friend of mine, and as cheesy as it might sound, friends help each other, so you two can count on me from now on."

He looked over at Monika, laughing embarrassedly. "Sounds weird coming from me, right? If my best buddies heard me saying things like that, they'd be laughing their butts off."

"Don't worry about them," Monika remarked. "It's still really nice of you, Kenta."

For the next half hour or so, Sayori's apartment unit was filled with laughter and snippets of conversation as the four of them talked to one another, drinking the lattes that Monika bought. In spite of her initial embarrassment at Akihiro's surprise visit, Sayori gladly accepted the strawberry shortcake he bought, eating it alongside him like an excited child. Kenta soon found his stride in their company as they warmed up to his jokes and the tales of his middle school exploits, with Monika helping him along with her own stories both inside and outside of school. Overall, it made for a good evening even if it wasn't just Monika and him together on another meaningful night out.

When the time came for them to leave, Akihiro decided to stay behind for a bit longer to keep Sayori company and to help her clean up. Though Sayori refused to let him stay at first on the grounds that he also had homework to take care of later that night, she relented after Monika persuaded her. Just before the two of them left, Akihiro thanked them for their company and advice, and Sayori expressed her desire to see the two of them again on less busy days. Monika promised that such a thing would be guaranteed in the future, and Kenta also remarked that he would be there to keep everyone company.

"You can tell that she really enjoyed tonight," said Monika as she and Kenta walked down the stairs to the apartment's main entrance. "She even made a new friend."

"And I made two," said Kenta, laughing. "It feels weird to make new friends sometimes, but in this case, it was fun."

"Is that why you didn't try making friends with me back when we were classmates? Because it was weird?" asked Monika, smirking.

Nervously, Kenta scratched his head. "N-Not really," he replied. "If I tried talking to you back then, I might've just ended up swallowing my tongue, not to mention all the middle school flashbacks I might've had. . . Besides, I needed to get my crap together first. Couldn't afford horsing around like I did back then."

"That's what actually caught my eye about you," Monika stated. "I knew you were a fun-loving guy, but I didn't want to see you get expelled because of your low grades. Somehow, I knew that with a little push, you can improve even more."

"Yeah, if you didn't help me out by lecturing me, I wouldn't have done much about my grades." Kenta sighed. "It's not like I liked being lazy. Truth is, high school was a sort of culture shock for me. It was a bit easy back in middle school, but it was a whole new deal in high school. I knew I had to catch up, even if it was hard work."

"And yet that hard work paid off," Monika reminded him. "I'll always be proud of the way you've changed, Kenta."

"Like I said, I couldn't have done it without your push," said Kenta. "That's what makes you a good leader, you know? You look out for people and you help them become better, but you're also not afraid to just nudge them a bit harder when it's needed. It's why everyone looks up to you, especially in your club."

Monika gave him a small smile. "Thank you. It's tough sometimes, but I do my best. Sometimes, when I help people, it even happens outside the club, you know? Like earlier with Sayori and Akihiro."

Silence crept in as the two of them walked down the street and back towards downtown, where Monika will be picked up by her driver. All around them, the autumn air covered them in its chilly embrace as the lights from nearby houses and buildings lit the way for them in the onset of the evening's darkness.

"Let's do that again," said Monika after a while.

Kenta looked at her. "What?"

"Getting together with you guys like that," said Monika. "If you want, we can do it again. We can go out somewhere, do some fun stuff, enjoy the free time we have on weekends. What do you say?"

"Sounds like a good idea," said Kenta, nodding. "Might be nice to bust some stress every once in a while and have a little get-together after hard days at school. Is it gonna be just the four of us again?"

"If that's what you guys want, I'm okay with it," Monika remarked. "Or . . . you can invite your friends. The more, the merrier!"

"You mean Daisuke and Naoki?" Kenta asked. "Well, having them around would really lighten up the mood even more, but I dunno if they're free. Most of the time, they're with their friends, Yuri and Natsuki. Remember them?"

"Oh, yes, you did tell me about them before. Hmm . . . well, since it's going to be more fun with more people, if they want, all of them can come along, too. It'd be like a group date!"

Kenta weighed the thought in his mind. If there would be eight of them, there was no doubt that their get-together would be very merry indeed, though it would also mean bringing together people who didn't know each other that well just yet. Then again, a lot of people start out as casual friends who meet each other on get-togethers like this, and Kenta knew that Daisuke and Naoki were very much open to the idea of making new friends with nice schoolmates like Sayori and Akihiro. In this case, however, Yuri and Daisuke's friend Natsuki seemed to be the odd ones out, much like Kenta was earlier with Akihiro and Sayori.

"I'll tell them about it and see if they'll want to come along," said Kenta after mulling things over. "But if you ask me, my buddies are pretty open to get-togethers like this, and maybe they can convince Yuri and Natsuki to join."

"I hope they'll come." Monika glanced up at the night sky, smiling. "Who knows? After this, we might be able to form our own little group of close friends that we can bond and share interests with."

"Like a club outside of school, you mean?" said Kenta, chuckling.

Monika laughed with him. "Maybe."


	26. Chapter 26 - Yuri's Secret

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – YURI'S SECRET (YuKi)**

Sunday nights were often the quietest for Yuri. She preferred them that way, as they allowed her to relax. Saturdays were mostly devoted to any homework she had been given for the weekend, while Sunday mornings were the times she would go out to buy anything that she needed from the nearby stores, like food, toiletries and other such things. Nighttime would be for reading or writing, as always, with a hot cup of oolong tea by her side and some scented candles to set the mood on her desk. Tonight, however, she was too occupied to do her routine.

She looked over the two new books that she had just bought from the mall. They were old copies, their paperback covers already a bit wrinkled, their pages slightly yellowed. And like her favorite scented candles, the smell of worn book pages was as cathartic as it was familiar. Nearly an hour's worth of diving into piles upon piles of used books had rewarded her with them; she had tried looking for other editions in case they were part of a series, so that one book would not feel so alone. It was rare, however, for multiple editions of a novel's series to be donated to discount bookstores, so she had to settle for a single copy each. One of them was a Japanese original named _Beneath the Cherry Blossoms_, while the other was an American work titled _Summer_ _Past_. Instead of the usual horror novels that the two of them liked, these were romance novels of a somber nature. Yuri didn't know what compelled her to buy them in the first place, given that romance was never her forte. Psychological horror novels never really dwelt for too long on such a theme, and she had never taken the time to watch romance movies or read happier works. She wondered whether Naoki had the same thoughts, and whether or not he would find a romance novel as a gift rather odd.

She had planned to give the book to him tomorrow, as she always did at school to surprise him, but Naoki had gone one step ahead of her and surprised her instead by inviting her out on a date tomorrow.

Yuri had stared for a full minute at his text message earlier, trying to grasp the idea that once again, Naoki was asking her out. She bit her lip, wondering what he had in mind, though she only had to look back at their book café excursions to know that there was nothing wrong about what he was asking. Still, her thoughts told her that there was something new about Naoki's invitation, especially following what she had done in their English class months ago. Yuri sighed rather pensively as she remembered just how quickly her heart raced as she recited the words she had written, telling of how a ghost came to possess a heart of amber, feeling that she and Naoki were the only two people in the world, bridged together by a bond rife with words spoken and read.

What was even more pleasant was the aftermath; Yuri had expected Naoki to balk, to reconsider his friendship with her in a terrible way, but it was quite the contrary. She caught glimpses of it in his grey eyes, and the way he would smile so handsomely whenever the two of them shared a conversation or had their moments of closeness after that fateful day. Even though it slowed down their reading of _Markov _considerably, Yuri had no intention of ever complaining. She knew that her bond with Naoki was far from being a full-fledged romantic relationship—then again, Yuri didn't know what criteria would cause a friendship to fit such a bill—but this was something that she wanted to see grow, and she sensed that Naoki wanted the same as well.

Going against her anxiety, she hoped that she wouldn't disappoint him.

* * *

All things considered, Naoki was happy for the triumvirate. Daisuke had admitted not too long ago about having something rather special with his classmate Natsuki, while Kenta was now becoming known among their year for establishing a close bond with Monika, a feat by his brash redheaded friend that many were still coming to terms with as they see the two together more and more frequently after school. Though it meant that his best friends were starting to spend less time with him in favor of the girls that they were now good friends with, Naoki was happy with how things were working out.

What he didn't expect, however, was the fact that he soon had the same experience they had.

Yuri was quickly proving to be genuinely sweet in spite of her shyness. She had surprised him twice in the past three months by giving him two new horror novels as gifts, and she had done the same earlier before lunchtime with a romance novel entitled _Beneath the Cherry Blossoms_. Naoki was warmed by the gesture the gifts brought even as Kenta often teased him about them. In return, he was planning something special for Yuri later today.

Much like the clandestine way he had asked around about _The Monocle_, Naoki set about inquiring his friends about where a good place for a date would be, though to lessen Yuri's guaranteed shock at it, he had informed her about it last night instead of catching her unawares at school. Moreover, he wanted this particular outing to be different from the ones he had in the past with her—it wouldn't involve simply reading and bonding over a simple cup of coffee or tea, nothing like that. Instead, it would be much like a real date—a trip to the movies, perhaps, or a dinner somewhere and a nice, quiet walk in the park afterwards.

The main problem with everything is that he had no idea what both of them liked.

Naoki had often been teased in the past by his family and friends about being rather reclusive, opting to stay indoors reading a good book instead of going downtown to hang out at malls or arcades. Even during some downtown excursions involving the triumvirate, Naoki preferred to hang back and enjoy his day quietly while letting Daisuke and Kenta take the reins. It wasn't that going outside bored him to death; Naoki did enjoy spending time outside with his friends and family. It was just that playing video games, watching movies and generally having physical fun did not hold that much appeal to him, and he was sure that Yuri might be thinking along the same lines, only on a deeper degree compared to him. Thus, he knew that he had to be the one to nudge her forward in this particular case. Looking back at everything, Naoki began envying how easy it seemed for Kenta and Daisuke to go out with girls like Monika and Natsuki. Ever the reliable ones, though, the two of them offered what insights they could to help him out.

"Well, if you two wanna have fun without feeling uncomfortable, you can always try ordering some takeout and then eating it at a park, like a picnic," Daisuke had told him that morning before classes started. "Parks are really peaceful at this time of year, and you don't have to worry about crowds that much!"

"You can't go wrong with the movies unless it's the first date," Kenta had proffered with confidence after lunchtime. "It worked out well for me and Monika, plus you two have gone out before, so it'll be fine! Just don't make any sudden moves like holding hands just yet, alright? Tried that a couple of times back then. Not hot."

Given that he was too busy thinking about what he would be planning for later, Naoki called off his _Markov _discussion with Yuri for today; Yuri had obliged willingly, as she was still rather flustered after giving him her new gift in the presence of their other classmates. And so, after eating, Naoki weighed his fellow triumvirs' suggestions together with the other choices that his other friends offered: a visit at the local museum, some quality time at the arcade, shop-hopping around downtown, or a dinner date and nothing else. Naoki knew that the arcade was out of the question due to Yuri's timidity, and that a dinner date would work better in the future. Shop-hopping seemed nice as well, though he sensed that it might result in bookstore-hopping in the end if he had any say in it. So far, only the movies, the park picnic and the museum choices seemed adequate enough. In the end, Naoki decided to ask Kenta once again for help after their first post-lunchtime class.

"Look, if you're still trying to think of a good choice, just ask Yuri!" Kenta told him, glancing sideways at her as if to make sure that she wasn't hearing them talk from where they were sitting. "It's tough to always have a surprise in store for a date, so sometimes the best option is to just plan with her."

"I'll admit, it's getting a bit difficult indeed," said Naoki with a laugh. "I'll ask her after class while we're on our way downtown."

"Don't sweat it too much, alright?" said Kenta. "Just go with the flow, and you'll do just fine!"

He sounded so confident and encouraging that Naoki couldn't help but agree with his choice. Kenta may not have had much luck with girls in middle school, but if Monika was any proof of his hard work in doing well with a girl, Naoki had little reason to doubt his best friend, especially now that the triumvirate was pretty much in the same boat.

Yuri seemed more excited than usual when dismissal time came; instead of walking out of the classroom to wait for Naoki in the corridors, she waited beside him so that the two of them can leave together. "So . . . where are we going?" she asked him when they passed through the school's front doors.

"Actually, I want you to help me decide where we'll be going," he replied, grinning.

"Oh, really?" she asked, glancing at him nervously. "How c-come?"

"I'm having a bit of trouble choosing where we can go," he told her. "I don't go out often, and to be honest, I have no idea what a good place for a date would be."

Yuri blushed deeply. "An actual date, huh?" she mused. "To be fair, I also have no clue w-where to go on a date."

"That's okay," Naoki told her, "I just don't want you to grow tired going to bookstores and book cafés with me every time we go out."

"Oh, there's no need to worry about that!" Yuri exclaimed as they passed through the school gates. "I have fun with you no matter where we go, and no matter w-what we do."

"T-Thanks," said Naoki, blushing a little as well. "Anyway, how's your poetry doing?"

Again, Yuri glanced at him shyly. "To tell you the truth, I haven't written anything new yet since the one I r-recited for English class," she replied. "It's rather difficult for me to think about a new poem right n-now, I suppose."

"Is there something wrong?" asked Naoki.

"No, everything's fine," said Yuri. "I just get too preoccupied sometimes with my own feelings, often to the point where I cannot get my thoughts straight."

"Ah, that's understandable," said Naoki. "Poems require feelings, sure, but they also require our thoughts so that we can articulate the words we put into them properly."

"Yes, that's correct," Yuri acknowledged, smiling.

* * *

Once the two of them had entered downtown, Naoki gave her the museum and park picnic choices. He purposely left Kenta's movie date suggestion out for now, musing that out of the three, it was the choice that would fit better in the future like the dinner date would. Yuri looked pensive as she debated on the two choices.

"The museum sounds fine," she said quietly, thinking. "It closes at seven, so we still have a lot of time to visit. And then afterwards, maybe we can go to the park."

"Wait, you want to do both of them?" asked Naoki, surprised.

Yuri nodded bashfully. "W-Would that be okay with you?"

Naoki smiled. "Of course."

The museum had very few people wandering about, checking out the exhibits. Naoki preferred it that way, as he knew how nervous Yuri often felt around crowds. Plus, it gave them some space to converse freely about the exhibits. As they walked around, their shoes made quiet squeaking noises against the marble floors, and their voices echoed around the walls as they shared facts and read plaques in front of various exhibits, ranging from restored paintings from bygone ages to archaeological artifacts stowed inside glass cases to detailed dioramas of different time periods.

Though it may have seemed rather tedious to think about on paper, their trip to the museum began gaining some profound momentum especially when Yuri began to shine once again. The two of them shared what historical facts and trivia they knew, playing off of each other's intellect and knowledge smoothly. It was both different and similar to the way they debated about novels such as _The Portrait of Markov_, and Naoki was sure that Kenta and Daisuke would be both proud and amused at how well the two of them bonded.

"Ooh, let's check this one out!" said Yuri, walking quickly towards a certain display.

Naoki followed dutifully behind her, smiling at her enthusiasm. When he drew near, he saw that she had gone towards an array of glass exhibits containing various knives and swords from both feudal Japan and medieval Europe, all sitting atop velvet cushions and appropriately labeled with the details of the year and location they came from. There were claymores and _ōdachi_, katanas and longswords, with small daggers and _tantō_ to accompany them, all displayed in their full splendor next to their restored scabbards. Some of them bore signs of age like faded marks and rust on their hilt and pommels, but their blades still glinted in the light, making them look almost good as new.

"Exceptional," said Yuri, leaning forward to gaze upon the blades as close as possible, her amethyst eyes glowing with interest.

"They do look quite good, right?" said Naoki.

"Magnificent," Yuri added. "I've read quite a few books about the craftsmanship behind swords and knives like these. It really is a meticulous process, with the way they forge the metal and design the blade from scratch, and how they get everything right for a perfect result. The materials that they use may vary depending on the type of blade being cast and the smith's own preferences, but the end result is always pleasing to observe and gaze upon."

Naoki grinned at Yuri's obvious enthusiasm. "I never knew you liked these kinds of things, Yuri."

Yuri blushed. "It's one of my personal interests, to peruse blades like these. I just find them really remarkable and b-beautiful."

"That's nice to hear," said Naoki, nodding as he looked upon the swords and knives closely.

All of a sudden, Yuri looked slightly uneasy. "Um, what time is it? We still h-have the park to go to, right?"

"Oh, sure," said Naoki, checking his watch. "Let's just order some food from the night market and take it there!"

"That sounds good," said Yuri eagerly. "Let's go."

* * *

The air grew colder as evening drew near. The two of them wrapped their school blazers tighter around themselves to ward off the chill. After a short visit to the night market, they managed to buy what food they wanted; Naoki ordered some fried rice and dumplings in a box, while Yuri settled for some salmon and shiitake _onigiri_. For beverages, a couple of bottles of juice sufficed, while a custard cake would provide some adequate dessert if they wanted.

Street sweepers appeared to be working overtime to make sure that parts of the city were cleared of any autumn foliage, and the park they had gone to was no exception. Though the trees there continued to shed their yellowing leaves, the ground was relatively clear of them. The place wasn't as large as some of the other parks in the city, but Yuri was fine with that. There were fewer people about, meaning there were less eyes around to observe the two of them eating and bonding together. Even so, she felt nervous as she walked next to Naoki on the way there, mindful of how much physical distance she should put between the two of them so as not to appear too close. Naoki, however, didn't seem to mind as he struck up conversations with her, affable as always.

Because the park was clear of crowds, the two of them had little trouble picking out one of the few gazebos there for their picnic. They chose a nice little spot that sat underneath the shade of a towering cherry blossom, its once-pink foliage having turned a deep red-orange for the autumn. Yuri leaned onto the gazebo's wooden railings as she looked up at it in wonder, her mind filling up with words for an impromptu poem as the tree suffused her with imagery. It reminded her as well of the novel he had given Naoki, with its image of the eponymous tree on the cover.

"Everything looks nice this time of year, hmm?"

Yuri turned to see Naoki standing close beside her, also gazing up at the cherry blossom from under the gazebo's roof.

"Yes, it d-does," she said silently, her breath almost taken away at how close he was.

"I really like autumn," said Naoki, shifting his gaze around the rest of the park. "The cold air, the beautiful sights, the relaxed atmosphere . . . It all makes for some good time to just sit in your room, reading and enjoying a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. Or oolong tea," he added, grinning at Yuri.

Yuri smiled back. "You're quite right about that," she replied. "I prefer winter myself, though. Some might find opportunities to go out and have fun in the snow—snowball fights and snow angels, for instance. I, on the other hand, prefer to just sit by the window and read, and sometimes it feels good to watch the snowflakes fall from there. It helps me think and feel for my poems."

"Yeah, seasons like that really help you get in your groove for any creative things you might want to try doing," said Naoki. "You know what? With autumn around and winter approaching, I might just try writing some poetry again."

"Didn't you try continuing what you started b-back in English class?" asked Yuri, remembering the poem she had written then and feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Not really, with all the schoolwork we've been having so far," said Naoki apologetically. "It's also why I still haven't gotten around to reading those novels you gave me."

Yuri's face flushed. "I'm sorry for giving you all those within s-such a short time."

"No, it's okay!" said Naoki quickly. "At least I'll have a lot of stories to keep myself busy with when schoolwork finally dies down, right?"

"W-Well, I suppose so," said Yuri anxiously. "But we haven't finished _The Portrait of Markov _yet. . ."

Naoki laughed. "Yeah, we've been caught up in a lot of stuff lately," he admitted. "Do you wanna continue tomorrow after lunch, as usual?"

"Yes, that would be great," said Yuri, nodding with a smile.

With the sun vanishing as the evening arrived, the park's lampposts began turning on, providing some light for the two of them as they sat down to eat. Some people passed by as they ate—a man walking his dog, a woman coming home from work, a couple with their daughter, a caretaker doing his rounds. As she took small bites of _onigiri_, Yuri watched them walk past, her mind wandering as she imagined the stories behind their faces and expressions, like she was visualizing them as characters from a book. The way a child's face shone whenever her parents picked her up, the way a workman wiped the sweat from his brow after a hard day, the way a man gazed upon his surroundings with a profound look in his eyes, all these were things that Yuri liked to mull on whenever she was idling without a book in front of her.

"Yuri?" Naoki's voice rang rather distantly.

Yuri jumped a little in her seat, startled out of her reverie. "Y-Yes?"

"I asked you a question, but it seems that you spaced out a little there," said Naoki with a small chuckle.

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry for that!" Yuri cried out, putting down the _onigiri_ she was eating. "I was just thinking about a few things so I didn't n-notice!"

"Totally understandable, don't worry," said Naoki reassuringly. "I just wanted to ask you if you'll be fine with an invitation from Kenta."

"What is it about?"

"Are you familiar with Monika Steinbeck?"

"From 3-A, right? She's one of our year's model students, if I remember correctly."

"Yep, that's her! Anyway, she and Kenta are planning to go out sometime in the future, and she told him that it's fine if he brings some of his friends along. He invited me and our other buddy Daisuke along, and he said that if it was fine with you, you can come along."

Yuri paused, feeling curious and nervous at the same time. Any excursion with Naoki was fine in her book, while she was relatively okay with Kenta around, given that she knew him better than her other classmates. Daisuke, who had been her classmate last year, seemed rather unfamiliar, as she had never bonded with him that much other than as casual classmates; Monika was a complete stranger to her.

"W-Where are they planning to go?" she asked tentatively.

Naoki shrugged as he chewed through a mouthful of fried rice and dumpling. "Nothing's final, as far as I know. Kenta asked Daisuke if he could bring his friend along as well, and from what Kenta told me, Monika's also asking one of her classmates to come along. If everything goes well, I suppose there'll be seven or eight of us in total."

Yuri nodded to show that she had heard what Naoki explained, but inside, she felt rather fearful. Crowds tended to be overwhelming, but at least they often passed by without paying much attention to her whenever she was caught up in them, so she always managed to slip by unnoticed. In a smaller group where the members interacted with one another extensively, however, attention would surely come to her at some point, and it was something she wouldn't be able to avoid, not if she wanted to make things awkward.

As if he had read her thoughts, Naoki continued. "It's alright if you don't want to go. I understand that it can be a bit too much to hang out with people we're not too familiar with. I just thought it'd be fun to meet new friends and hopefully bust some stress."

"I'll t-think about it," said Yuri, not wanting to sound as if she was flat-out refusing him, but also not wanting to give an affirmative answer just yet. In an effort to sound enthusiastic about it, she added, "Though if you're there with me, I'd already like to go."

Naoki's cheeks reddened a little. "Likewise, Yuri," he said warmly.

When the two of them finished eating their food, Naoki opened the box that contained the cake that they had bought. Its top layer, which was a dark orange coating of sugary custard, glistened invitingly as it sat over a fluffy mound of white sponge cake.

"That looks pretty good," said Naoki as he set aside the box's lid.

"I agree," said Yuri, observing the cake's sides carefully. "However, I don't think we have any paper plates at hand to eat it with. . ."

"That's okay, we can just eat it by hand," said Naoki. "Although I do wish there was something we could cut it with, otherwise we just have to settle for piecing it apart by hand as well."

"Oh, if only I had my favorite knife with me," said Yuri sadly.

Naoki looked at her. "Uh, what was that?"

Yuri stopped in her tracks, snapping to attention as she realized what she had just said. "Wait! W-What I meant was, ah . . . um . . ."

Naoki kept staring at her, frowning slightly. "Yuri, did you just say . . . your 'favorite knife'?"

"Um . . . You see, what I w-wanted to say is that . . ."

Try as she might to rack her brain for something to segue her answer with, Yuri knew it was futile to deny what she had just uttered, not when Naoki heard her perfectly well. Once again, she had spoken without thinking, and this time, it might just cost her dearly. Her heart began to race, and she gripped her left forearm tightly, hoping that the pain it brought would bring her some respite.

She decided to go ahead and admit what was already said. "Yes, m-my favorite knife."

Naoki sat up straighter. His face looked more curiously puzzled than anything, but that offered little comfort to her. "You mean you own a knife?" he asked her.

Swallowing anxiously, Yuri nodded. "Y-You see, I collect knives. . ."

Naoki raised his eyebrows; Yuri felt her anxiety skyrocket. "Collect . . . knives . . .?" he repeated, as if trying to grasp the meaning of the two words together.

Again, she nodded. "Mostly, it's j-just custom-made knives that I find on the internet," she went on, as if stating that would make things sound less weird than she was feeling them to be. "I l-look them up online and order them if t-they fit my fancy."

Naoki paused before speaking; evidently, he was still too surprised by the revelation. "Is that like . . . a hobby of yours or something?"

Yuri sighed, gripping her forearm even tighter; pain wrapped around her limb like a bracer made out of barbed wire. "Yes, I s-suppose that's it, a hobby. . ."

Naoki looked intently at her. "So that's why you liked watching that exhibit we came across earlier, right?" he said.

"Yes. . ." she said very quietly. It was like being back behind the gymnasium the day after she stumbled during their P.E. class. She felt a million judging eyes staring at her, watching as she trembled in humiliation at what she had just revealed. _He must already be thinking how eccentric and disturbing I am._

To her great surprise, Naoki placed a hand on her forearm. Yuri twitched slightly at the feel of his warm palm, causing her to let go of the painful grip she was maintaining on herself. The gesture was light and reassuring, and it startled her to her core.

"Don't worry, it's alright," he said kindly. "I was just a bit astonished, that's all. I didn't expect someone like you to have a hobby like that."

Yuri looked at him imploringly. "I know. It's rather weird, right? Weird and even a little c-creepy. . ."

"Well, I won't deny that it's rather odd," Naoki admitted, "but . . . ah, who am I to judge someone's personal hobby and interest, right?"

He frowned, and Yuri sensed that he must be thinking of the right words to say. "You collect knives, so does that . . . does that mean that you're a totally different person to me now? I don't think so, right? You're still Yuri to me, nothing's changed. I just found out something new about you, so what's wrong with that? I don't think that changed my perception of you one bit, and I don't think it ever should. If I do that, it'd be like judging a person simply because their interests are not the same as mine—that's unfair. There's already too much of that happening today, and it's just all sad.

"Anyway, I digress—again, if collecting knives is your hobby, then I don't see anything wrong with that."

A short silence stretched between them. Naoki coughed a little, not wanting to keep it going for too long. "Anyway, I'm sorry if my reaction to what you said seemed a bit too much. I don't want you to think that I'm repulsed or something. I just didn't know how to react immediately to . . . to what you said and all. . ."

"No, it's okay," said Yuri at last, feeling relieved as she felt the eyes around her vanish after Naoki said his piece. "T-Thank you for understanding. . ."

Naoki smiled. He pulled his hand away from her forearm; Yuri watched it go sadly, wishing that it lingered for a little while longer. "Shall we try this cake out now?" he asked.

"S-Sure thing!"

The cake turned out to be a bit too sweet for Yuri's taste, but she was grateful for the respite it provided from what just happened. Less people were now passing by, and the lights in the buildings around the park started turning on to prepare for the evening. The sidewalks soon grew noisier as more people filed out of offices and establishments to walk through the streets, going home after a hard day's work. Yuri watched from where she sat, nibbling at the custard cake timidly.

"_Buildings come to life,_

_As lights give color to stone,_

_And autumn persists._"

Naoki's voice was silent but solemn as he spoke. Yuri stopped chewing, surprised by the words that he had just uttered. _Five-seven-five—a haiku. _When she looked over at him, he smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that," he stated. "I was observing the rest of the city along with you, and it just sort of came to me."

"It was actually r-rather good," Yuri told him.

"Thanks. Didn't know I could cook up a haiku on the spot. My buddies would be amazed."

"I'm sure you would be able to write a lot more than just haikus in the future," she said encouragingly.

Naoki shrugged as he took another bite of custard cake. "Well, as long as you're there to help me, maybe I would," he said gregariously.

Yuri paused for a moment, thinking as she set down her custard cake piece. Naoki looked at her with a mildly puzzled look in his bespectacled eyes. "What is it?" he asked.

She looked at him and smiled.

"_With pen and paper,_

_With my words, thoughts and feelings,_

_I'll do what I can._"

In spite of the shortness of her haiku response, Yuri knew that it was more than enough. Now, it was Naoki's turn to be surprised at the poem that came his way. "We really should start making on-the-spot haikus a thing, don't you agree?" he said in an amused tone.

Yuri giggled shyly. "M-Maybe we can."

* * *

As she arrived home later that evening, Yuri didn't know what to feel. Part of her still felt light and happy from the time she had just spent with Naoki. As he had intended, their excursion was very different from their book café dates. It was definitely a first for Yuri, and it was something that she looked forward to in the future once again, especially with the little haiku exchange they had and how lighthearted it made her feel.

On the other hand, though, she also felt anxious because of two things: the invitation to an outing that Naoki relayed to her, and the fact that she had just revealed one of her bigger secrets to him. She could put off thinking about the invitation for now, but her revelation still made her feel worried. Granted, Naoki had told her that there was nothing too weird about the idea that she collects knives, but now that he wasn't present, she felt very self-conscious about it all.

Was it alright indeed? Was there nothing weird about her chosen hobby and interest? The shame continued to eat away at her, but gradually, she decided to somehow look at things from an objective perspective by not thinking with embarrassment about it and instead imagining how it would feel if she encountered another person who had a similarly eccentric hobby or interest. For this, she also took into account the words that Naoki had spoken: _It's like judging a person simply because their interests are not the same as mine—that's unfair. _In a way, such a thought was applicable to everyone, and with it, Yuri felt justified about her hobby.

Whether or not it justified other things about her hobby, however, was a whole other matter.

Yuri walked over to her desk, sitting down on the chair there and putting her bag down next to her. Given that she still felt full with the food that she had eaten with Naoki, she mused that skipping dinner for tonight would be fine, though that was no reason for her to skip out on her nightly cup of oolong tea. As she was about to reach down to take her things out of her bag, she looked over to the desk's bottommost drawer. She knew exactly what the contents of the drawer were, and given that her day with Naoki earlier involved a brief but substantial discussion about them, she decided to open it and take a look inside.

Seven knives lay there side by side, resting atop a small white pillow that she had stuffed inside the drawer. Their blades and handles were made of different materials and possessed different styles, giving each knife its own unique look and feel. One had a leaf-shaped steel blade with a dark green handle crafted out of aluminum; another resembled a _kunai _with its dark, pointed blade and its thin black leather handgrip; one of them was a small hunting knife, its cream-colored handle made out of smoothed bone and its blade possessing a thick, curved edge. Yuri's personal favorite, however, was a Damascus steel straight-back knife with a polished dark brown handle made out of mahogany. Damascus steel knives often had silver wavelike patterns inlaid in the grey steel as a result of their manufacturing, and Yuri found this particular design exquisite.

As she sat there looking at her collection, she looked back in her mind to the time she first became interested in knives as a young girl. Such tools had only basic uses that seemed to have no elegant undertones, but Yuri always thought otherwise. The first time that she had ever learned to use a knife, she had experimented with it by slicing up many things: a tomato, a sheet of paper, a spare length of a garden hose in her grandmother's backyard. Every time she saw a knife's edge cut through such things easily, her fascination with them kept growing, and even now that she was older, that fascination still lingered upon her. As she already knew how knives work, she had decided to look into how they were made; reading and learning how, with much toil and effort, a simple piece of metal can be crafted and forged into one of the exquisite blades that piqued her interest. Once she saw and understood how much work went into creating such things of sharp beauty, Yuri grew to appreciate knives even more.

Her interest had taken a whole new turn when she accidentally cut her finger one day.

The pain had shocked her a little, but she knew better than to be surprised by the fact that a knife's blade can cut through human skin with the same keenness that it does through food or paper. She had bandaged the cut then and decided to take a break from knives for a while, knowing that like fire, knives can be both helpful and dangerous. However, she never forgot the experience, especially when there were moments that reminded her of it. Yuri remembered when she had scraped her knee back in their P.E. class. She remembered touching the wound there and feeling the stinging sensation of pain course through her like a unique electric shock. More profoundly, she remembered just what kind of relief the pain seemed to offer her then, and how it blotted out the embarrassment brought by her blunder.

It brought back memories of the times that she had done similar things, memories that she didn't want to remember right now, not when she felt this emotionally and mentally sober.

As the evening set in further, Yuri took the time to dress into more casual clothing, her mind again reviewing the day she just had with Naoki. The two of them had parted cordially in spite of the impact that her revealed secret incurred; Naoki had promised that the two of them would begin reading and analyzing _The Portrait of Markov _once again tomorrow. She looked forward to the discussion and knew that she would soon have to review the most recent chapter that they had tackled.

Yuri stretched gracefully as she sat down. The short-sleeved white shirt and blue shorts that she was now wearing did little to ward off the chill of an autumn evening from her arms and legs, but a steaming cup of oolong tea later would help relieve that. She leaned down, opened her school bag, and took out her school books and her copy of _Markov_. Before she settled down to begin, however, curiosity nudged at her. After a brief moment of thinking, she opened the bottommost drawer at her desk once again.

This time, instead of simply observing, she picked up the Damascus steel knife carefully, not wanting it to collide with the drawer's corners or with the other knives. She traced her finger along the knife's wavy patterns towards the blade, taking care not to press too deep and draw blood from her finger like last time. It had been a long time since she last looked at her favorite knife, let alone all of the other knives; she usually let them sit in the drawer, taking them out only to clean them properly and make sure that they weren't starting to rust or dull. There were other times in the past, however, when she opened the drawer and took one of them out for a totally different reason—a reason that Yuri was trying to avoid encountering again with all her might. Right now, everything was fine; she had only taken out the knife to check on it as she would with one of the novels that she had read before. She was thankful that so far, nothing bad had happened yet for her to consider using this knife or any of her other knives again for a purpose other than cutting up food or other things.

After all, knives weren't the only things that Yuri had a collection of. One look at the scars on her left forearm would prove just that.


	27. Chapter 27 - Missing You

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN – MISSING YOU (SayoHiro)**

As his Barbarian character struck down _Dungeon Delver_'s final boss with his two-handed battle axe, Akihiro let out a sigh. Normally, the conclusion of his video game exploits would give him a sense of fulfillment and pride, even if it lasted for only a few days. He would look at the game's thumbnail on his desktop and feel that he had once again notched an achievement onto his belt of video game achievements and victories. He would then go on to seek out a new video game to conquer, or try his hand at a new character and see where the journey will lead to.

This time, it was very different. Akihiro didn't feel even a slight semblance of the relief when he decided to distract his mind by finishing _Dungeon Delvers_ tonight. There was no homework left to do, and he had hoped that poring over his school books and jotting down notes will help him relax, but that did nothing either. Instead, his mind continued to dwell on Sayori.

When he had visited her along with Monika and her friend Kenta Yamaguchi from 3-C, Akihiro had expected things to start becoming better. Sayori had enjoyed the evening then by a great deal as she talked and laughed with them, making it feel as if she had never been absent. Unfortunately, it didn't last, since they all had to call it a day and go home, and things went back to their quiet, diminished state afterwards. Like nothing ever happened, Sayori soon receded into the shadows once again, with Akihiro only having a glimpse of how she was doing through their very short encounters and conversations on text.

Akihiro exited _Dungeon Delvers _and stared for a long while at his desktop. While he could always ask for Monika's help to know how Sayori was doing, since she had a better chance of doing so as Sayori's classmate, he didn't want to impose anything that would upset Sayori or bother Monika. Still, while he knew that it might be odd to put his faith into the help of Monika or Kenta, who seemed also new to relationships overall, they were so supportive and willing to help that Akihiro thought it was foolish to not trust their help at a time like this.

He picked up his phone and scrolled through his contact list, fighting the urge to call Sayori. He had felt rather dejected when she almost lashed out at him for attempting to come over to her place that one time, but now, he was willing to shoulder any anger or pain that would come his way just to make sure that she was fine. Just like before, Akihiro wondered if he was indeed overthinking things, if he was being too worried or imposing too much on Sayori, but one look back at the way she had wept in his shoulder that night months ago told him that he had every right to be worried. Kenta's and Monika's words at the _Cocoa Connection _had also helped tremendously in that regard; it made him happy to know just how much Monika supported their relationship, and how he had found a new comrade in the form of Kenta as well. Somehow, having one of the most popular girls in school and one of her close friends helping him out offered him comfort.

He sighed. After looking one more time at Sayori's number, he scrolled past it and picked out Monika's number instead, sending a quick "_hello_" her way.

Monika replied after about a minute. "_hello! how are things going?_ :)"

"_doing ok, sayori's still quiet tho_"

":( _have you texted her?_"

"_not rly. should i? how was she earlier at school?_"

"_well, she seemed to be doing fine, don't worry. we weren't given a lot of homework for tonight, maybe she's not too busy. try texting her!_"

"_i dunno about that…_"

Of course, such a reply was going against what Akihiro really wanted, and he wondered what was making him hesitate now after his thoughts of going against anything to make sure Sayori was alright. Perhaps he was just waiting for someone else's approval on whether or not it was a good idea.

As he should have expected, Monika was all for it. "_i'm sure a single text couldn't hurt _:)_ or if you want, i'll text her right now for you!_"

In Akihiro's hearing, it sounded like a good idea. After all, he had seen before how comfortable Sayori was around Monika. Maybe she would be more inclined to reply if she texted her first.

"_can u pls?_ :( _tnx so much_"

"_no worries_ :) _hold on_"

The next ten minutes seemed like an eternity to Akihiro. Again, his mind berated him a little for overblowing what seemed to be a trivial issue, but he stood his ground and reminded himself that this was all for Sayori. His thoughts wandered, and for a moment, he mused on whether this hubbub all began when the two of them started dating. Perhaps they just weren't ready for a relationship like this just yet. Perhaps he had rushed things by showing Sayori how he felt. If so, Akihiro felt disappointed with himself.

Monika's reply seemed tenuous. "_she told me she's doing fine. she did ask me whether or not you told me to ask her, though…_"

"_wat did u tell her?_" Even as he sent the text to Monika, Akihiro knew what the answer would be.

"_i told her yes. but don't worry, she's not upset or anything. in fact, she asked me how you were doing, too_ :) _she's worried about you as well_"

Akihiro smiled. Even now when the two of them weren't talking to each other as frequently as they did before, Sayori hadn't forgotten to look out for him. "_wat exactly was she worried about me for?_"

"_i didn't ask, but i told her that i'm texting you, and that you're doing well. why don't you go ahead and text her now? she won't mind, I swear_ :D"

Admittedly, Akihiro still felt hesitant to do so, but Monika's assurance emboldened him a bit. In the end, he mused that it was better than waiting for another time to text Sayori. "_i'll try it out rn, tnx so much monika!_"

"_it's nothing _:)"

* * *

Sayori was torn between her warring feelings. Going for a few more days without interacting too much with Akihiro seemed natural considering the stand she had taken starting that one night, but it also felt like she was doing something that was wrong and unnecessary ever since. As if avoiding going out with him wasn't already bad, even the simpler things they did together like walking to and from school together were starting to become affected. Somehow, no matter what she seemed to do, she was only messing things up; she didn't feel that much better, and she knew that Akihiro felt even more troubled about her now, which was the exact opposite of what she wanted for him. It all made her very upset, and she wondered whether or not she should go back to talking to him normally again.

Monika's texts had been a comfort, but even then, Sayori knew that Akihiro had put her up to it. Monika, who could be frank without hesitation if the situation calls for it, had told her as much, and said that Akihiro was indeed worried about her again. Sayori now felt annoyed, though more at herself instead of Akihiro. Naturally, every time that she received a text message from him, she felt happy and excited—after all, she couldn't really stop feeling so whenever the two of them bonded with one another, even in the past, for how could someone stop their heart from beating for someone the same way hers did for him? Perhaps she should've known better than to expect anything less from him, the boy who had protected her fiercely from bullies in the past, who kept her company and did his best to make her smile even when tears were involved, who stuck with her through thick and thin even amidst all the jokes and teasing that they pelted at one another. It was what made her fall for him in the first place, and what made her miss him even more terribly now.

Her days without Akihiro had given her time to contemplate on the idea that everything about her current state might be her fault, beginning at their get-together at the _Starlight_, when she asked him about other girls and dating. Sayori had wanted to test the waters then, when she could no longer bear the emotions that her heart made her feel every time she was with him, and how empty she felt whenever she would go back to her apartment unit and spend the rest of the day without his physical company. What was she trying to prove now with her current predicament, then? She didn't want Akihiro to leave, and yet here she was, driving him away just when their relationship had taken a romantic turn, which was what she had always wanted. Was it hesitancy? Was it guilt? Was it the idea that she might not be ready after all for a deeper relationship with Akihiro?

Being happy all the time seemed an easy task at first; by flashing a sweet smile, laughing and joining in the fun, Sayori had managed to slip by her other friends and classmates without them noticing that something was up—or perhaps that was just because no one among them bothered to think that something was indeed up. So far, only Monika and Akihiro had picked up on the truth and asked her about it, and she couldn't fault them for that—Akihiro had known her for so long that he could guess her train of thought easily, while Monika was always good at reading other people's minds and intentions, obviously a talent she had developed in the debate club.

Her cellphone beeped up. Sayori took a look at it and saw a very brief text message from Akihiro. "_hello Sayori_"

She smiled wistfully, sensing that Akihiro kept the message short so as not to pressure her into replying. Still, the text brightened up her mood a little. "_hello akihiro!_ :) _how r u?_"

Somehow, it felt weird to send him such a text message; it was as if she was addressing someone else and not her boyfriend or even her childhood friend. Typing quickly, she followed up the text with another one. "_i'm doing ok, don't worry. i told monika that too!_"

"_i'm glad 2 hear that. i miss u, u know?_"

Sayori felt relieved that there was no one around to see her face redden. "_i miss u too_ :( _i'm sorry if i haven't been talking 2 u l8ly…_"

"_are u eating well? sleeping well?_"

She paused for a moment, sighing sadly. Starving herself of Akihiro's presence for his sake was slowly taking its toll on her; though the nightmares seemed to have stopped, her mood had spiraled downwards to the point where even eating and sleeping felt like chores. Naturally, such experiences would warrant more worry and concern from Akihiro, and she knew that he would go out of his way to help her.

The voices would always have something to say about that.

"_yes, don't worry_ :)"

As she stared at her text message, what little relief and joy she felt from talking to Akihiro seemed to just ebb away. Sayori knew that she could lie if she needed to, and she had already done so a number of times with other people. However, lying to Akihiro—the person that had nothing to hide from her, the person who cared so much that he would willingly set aside anything he was doing to help her if she told him to—was always a very different matter. When he stayed with her for a little while longer on his surprise visit after Monika and Kenta had left, she had done her best to make him see that she was okay, even if she felt otherwise. Lying through text or chat might be easier considering how emoticons and shortcut replies work, but even so, lying still felt . . . painful.

Akihiro's reply came in not long afterwards. "_ok. just take care of urself always, ok? i hope we can get 2gether again soon_"

Sayori didn't know what hurt worse: the lie itself, or the idea that Akihiro seemed to believe her out of trust. "_i hope so _:( _u take care too, ok?_"

Lying down on her bed, she closed her eyes and sighed. The voices were merely whispers right now, telling her that she had done well, and how everything was still fine.

Or was it? Deep within the emptiness that was becoming stronger with each passing day in her heart, there was a certain fear that gripped her. Like an oncoming tidal wave, like a storm of foreboding, it told her that something horrible would definitely happen soon. Instinctively, she reached down at the foot of her bed and picked up Mr. Cow. She hugged the stuffed animal tightly, imagining with all her might that it was Akihiro in her arms.

* * *

Akihiro looked around the cafeteria for a place to sit down. His friends were scattered at the moment as they met over their upcoming group presentations for History later, so he was alone. His group was already done in that regard, and it pleased him slightly that they had bounced back from the fiasco that their group leader had unintentionally caused in passing their research notes late. As he walked through the aisles in the cafeteria, passing by students who were on their way to get their lunches and those who were already seated and eating, he felt out of place all of a sudden. Then again, nothing seemed to be going right nowadays with Sayori's dilemma happening.

A loud, familiar voice carried over the throng and called out to him. "Hey, Akihiro! Over here!"

Akihiro looked around to see Kenta standing and signaling to him with a wave of his arm, grinning. The table he was at was occupied only by two other boys, one with eyeglasses and short black hair, another with wavy blonde hair; Akihiro surmised that these were his best friends that he had mentioned before.

"Hello, Kenta!" said Akihiro as he approached their table.

"How's it going?" asked Kenta, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. Even so, his strength made Akihiro buckle slightly. "Oh, sorry about that," he added.

"I'm alright," replied Akihiro, grinning. "Why did you call me over?"

"Well, I saw you wandering around and I guessed that you didn't have a table to go to," said Kenta.

"You've got that right," said Akihiro. "My buddies are busy someplace else, so I'm eating alone."

"You can sit right here with us!" Kenta proffered. The way he spoke made it seem like he and Akihiro had been friends for a long time. It was an overwhelming gesture given Kenta's forcefulness, but it was welcoming nonetheless.

"Thanks," said Akihiro gratefully. He turned to the other two boys, who smiled at him as he sat down.

"Hello," he said in greeting. It felt like freshman class all over again. "Um, I'm Akihiro Hasegawa, from 3-B."

"Nice to meet you, Akihiro," said the one with eyeglasses. He held out his hand cordially. "My name's Naoki Nakajima from 3-C, same as Kenta over there."

As Akihiro shook hands with Naoki, the blonde-haired boy spoke up in an equally friendly manner. "Daisuke Matsuda, 3-D," he stated, raising his hand in greeting.

"These are my best buddies," said Kenta as he sat down next to Akihiro. "They can be dolts sometimes, but they're cool."

Naoki shook his head. "Such a nice way to introduce us, Kenta," he said sarcastically.

"I think it's pretty accurate," said Daisuke as he chewed some food. "Two cool dolts led by the biggest and coolest dolt of them all, Kenta Yamaguchi!"

Kenta frowned. "I dunno whether to feel flattered or insulted."

Daisuke and Naoki laughed, with Kenta soon joining in. Akihiro couldn't help but smile at their banter. As they settled down to eat, the three of them began talking about their later classes, often bemoaning what was to come—a quiz, a seatwork, some half-baked assignments they would be turning in. To make sure that he didn't feel like the odd man out, Kenta struck up conversations with Akihiro, with Daisuke and Naoki listening or replying to whatever he said. Though he knew that he was indeed the one who stuck out as a stranger amidst the group, Akihiro felt as if he had known all three of them for a long time now, even if he knew them only by look—or sound, where Kenta was concerned—from the times that he passed by them in the school corridors.

As their conversations wore on, he found out the others' various traits and characteristics; Kenta, of course, was the raucous jock stereotype with a dash of open friendliness that made people either love him or hate him; Naoki was his exact opposite, being reserved, well-mannered and more refined in a sense; Daisuke was the one stuck in the middle, being laid-back and easygoing like Akihiro was. Even so, bonding with them felt so natural, and as he watched them interact with one another, Akihiro found it all remarkable. The fact that individuals with very different personalities could coexist in a single group with harmony and humor was a testament to the power of friendship and brotherhood.

"How's Sayori?" asked Kenta after a while.

Such a question brought Akihiro crashing back down to earth. He sighed. "Still the same. We talked last night, and she seemed to be doing okay."

He looked around to check if Sayori was anywhere in the cafeteria, but she was nowhere to be seen. He wondered where she was, and whether she had eaten lunch already. Of course, Sayori was never the type to skip lunch or any other meal on any day, but Akihiro wanted to make sure that she was eating properly during times like these.

"I hope she's doing fine," said Kenta. "I talked to Monika last night, and she mentioned you and Sayori again. I was wondering . . . did you two have a fight or something?"

"Not really," said Akihiro. "I mean, we almost did when I showed her that I was worried about her, but we made up after that. Ever since that night, though, she's been acting like this."

"Do you think she got mad at you?" asked Kenta.

"Maybe, but she apologized afterwards," replied Akihiro, recalling the way that Sayori snapped at him and how she felt remorseful immediately after that. He knew that it wasn't her intention to lash out at him; as a kindhearted and sweet girl, Sayori rarely did so with anyone. "Maybe she's just avoiding me because she's afraid that it might happen again."

"Hmm . . . maybe," Kenta mused. Just then, he glanced sideways at Daisuke and Naoki, who seemed to be listening to their conversation rather curiously.

"Hey, are you two dolts done eavesdropping?" he said in a crabby tone. "Maybe you can give some advice to a fellow bro instead of just staring at us like that? This is an important discussion!"

"Sorry about that," said Naoki with a laugh. "We couldn't help but hear you talking about a girl named Sayori. Is her surname Matsuzaki?"

"Yeah, that's right," said Akihiro, surprised. "How did you know?"

"She was our classmate back in freshman year," replied Daisuke. And then, realization suddenly dawned on his handsome face. "So you're the one she kept talking about back then!"

"Wait, 'back then?'" Akihiro repeated, slightly confused.

"She'd always mention someone named Akihiro to her friends in class," said Naoki. "We figured that it might be her boyfriend or something like that, given the way she talked about the guy and all, but we had no idea that _you_ were the Akihiro in question."

Akihiro couldn't help but smile. Even back then, it seemed that Sayori had proudly stated to anyone who would listen that he was her best friend. "Did she actually always do that?" he asked, turning slightly pink.

"Yeah, but don't worry, it wasn't annoying or anything," said Daisuke reassuringly. "In fact, it was pretty sweet, the way she spoke about you, and she was already a really nice girl and all."

"Yeah, that's Sayori for you," said Akihiro wistfully.

Kenta straightened up. "That reminds me, have you two considered accepting Monika's invitation for that get-together?" he asked Daisuke and Naoki.

Daisuke shrugged. "I'm fine with anything. How about you, Naoki?"

"Yuri and I will be going," said Naoki with a smile. "I managed to convince her earlier this week."

"That's good. Daisuke, aren't you gonna take Natsuki along?" Kenta asked Daisuke.

"I haven't asked her yet," said Daisuke, "but don't worry. I'm sure I can persuade her."

"Great! Monika really wants to make this get-together happen, and she wants you guys to be there with the girls. That just leaves you and Sayori, Akihiro!"

Akihiro, who had resumed eating as the trio talked, looked up. "What?"

Kenta grinned. "Monika thinks that the get-together will be good for Sayori. It's part of why she planned it in the first place, plus she thinks it'd be a good chance to meet new friends, form our own little group, that kind of stuff. It'll be awesome if we all get to be there!"

As Kenta, Daisuke and Naoki looked at him, Akihiro mulled things over. Monika had not told him about such a get-together yet, musing that perhaps it was a surprise for both Sayori and him in a way. Sure enough, it was a good prospect—Sayori was definitely the type of girl who would like to go out and make new friends, and he was definitely okay with meeting new people and getting to know Kenta and his best friends even more. He felt rather touched at the idea that Monika would plan such a thing for Sayori's sake, and possibly even to help him out as well.

"We're going," said Akihiro readily. "I know Sayori. She'll definitely want to come, and I'll do my best to convince her."

"Awesome!" said Kenta with glee. "Monika also told me that she'll try to get her to come along. With you two asking her, I'm sure she'll be convinced. Monika doesn't have a fixed date for the get-together yet, but I'm sure it's gonna be soon."

"Then I better start convincing Natsuki quick," Daisuke mused.

Naoki smiled. "We hope to see you and Sayori there, Akihiro."

"And you guys as well," said Akihiro warmly. "Thanks."

* * *

Sayori barely heard the dismissal bell ring. Then again, certain things seemed to pass her by nowadays without her noticing. Her classmates stood up and stowed away their things, getting ready to go home. She moved at a slower pace, knowing that there was nothing in store for her later apart from another dismal night at her apartment unit. She watched her friends go, bidding them goodbye and envying them in a way for being better off than she was right now.

"Sayori?"

Blinking, Sayori turned around and saw Monika. Routinely, she put on a smiling face—it was what she always did whenever someone talked to her these days to show that she was fine. Of course, such a smile wouldn't always work with someone like Monika.

"Are you okay?" asked Monika kindly.

Sayori looked at her. Her smile faded as she stared into her emerald-green eyes—they reminded her of Akihiro's. "Not really, Moni."

Monika sighed, sitting down on the vacant seat next to her as the rest of the class called it a day. "Sayori, I think we need to talk about all this," she said. Her tone was still gentle, but the slight firmness in it made Sayori nervous. "I know that something's wrong even before I talked to Akihiro."

"Is it that obvious?" she asked Monika.

"To me, yes," said Monika. "You're always so cheerful inside and outside of school, so when your spark goes out, I notice it easily. I know that you tend to space out sometimes, but I think that you're spacing out nowadays because you're sad." She placed her hand on Sayori's forearm. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

Sayori bit her lip, casting her gaze down. "Are you gonna t-tell Akihiro if I tell you?"

Monika smiled. "I won't if you don't want me to," she said. "Of course, I'd like to help Akihiro look out for you, but if you don't want me to tell him anything just yet, I'll respect that."

Sayori let out a long, dejected sigh. "Monika, do you . . . d-do you think there's something wrong with what I'm doing?"

Monika looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Sayori stared at her despondently. "Y-You see, I'm avoiding Akihiro sometimes because I don't w-want him to worry about me too much. I told you that before, right? I said that it's because I want him to be focused on more important things instead of looking out for me all the time."

"Yes, I remember you telling me that."

"Do you think that . . . I'm just a burden to Akihiro?"

Monika looked startled. Sayori's heart broke a little as she was reminded of how Akihiro had reacted in pretty much the same way.

"Sayori, how can you say that?"

With another sigh, Sayori decided to tell Monika everything—her feelings for Akihiro, her first questions about dating at the _Starlight _and the days that followed, the two of them getting together, and the thoughts that had been plaguing her ever since. In particular, Sayori told Monika about the nightmares she had been experiencing, and the voices that seemed to pop up in her head whenever she tried to do something about it all. Monika listened closely, her beautiful face taking on a very serious expression. In a way, Sayori was grateful that she didn't interrupt her with a question or a remark as she waited for her to finish explaining.

"After that, I always imagined that . . . t-that if I'm going to be like that all the time, what's gonna happen to Akihiro?" she went on. "I don't want him to always worry about me, and I don't want him to be bothered every single time I miss him or feel sad or anything. That's why I'm t-trying to get by on my own. I want to become stronger so that he wouldn't have to worry about me anymore, because he's got more important things to w-worry about. There are times when I really miss him, but I don't want to tell him about it because I know he's just gonna rush over to my place to visit me—I mean, w-what if he does that while he's in the m-middle of something important, right? I'm not trying to stop him from worrying. I'm just . . . doing something to make s-sure that he has less things to worry about. It's better if he focuses on other stuff instead of someone like . . . me."

The look of seriousness on Monika's face never left her. "Sayori, you're Akihiro's girlfriend. Even before that, you're his childhood friend—and one of my good friends as well. Don't think that you're anything less than that, okay? You're a really nice and sweet person who cares for others a lot. I'm sure that's part of the reason why Akihiro started having feelings for you, and I'm certain that he wouldn't want you to think that you're horrible or troublesome. I understand that what you're doing is part of your desire to make sure that he's always happy, but if you hide everything from him, I'm afraid the only thing you'll be achieving is the exact opposite of what you want."

Sayori smiled dejectedly. "It all sounds weird, right? Like, I want Akihiro to be happy, and yet what I'm doing is making things worse. I'm a horrible person."

"No, Sayori, you're not," said Monika firmly, "and don't ever think that you are."

Sayori bowed her head and said nothing. The sadness she was feeling at the moment was more than she could bear. Monika went on, "Sayori, why do you think that you're not important? Pardon me for asking, but . . . is there, like, a reason for all this? Did something cause this?"

When she didn't answer, Monika placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Sayori?"

At last, Sayori looked up. She stared directly into Monika's eyes, those twin mirrors of green that reminded her so much of Akihiro's own eyes. "I think . . . I've always been like this. Even back when things were fine, there are times when I'd just feel sad or empty, sometimes for no reason at all. I'd become unable to do stuff that I normally do, and I'll remember some bad things that happened in the past—being scolded by my parents, or failing to pass a quiz, or being bullied by the bigger kids. It just happens, and it bothers me for a long while and I won't be able to do anything about it. They're like rainclouds that won't go away.

"But I'd always feel better when Akihiro was around. He'd always do his best to make me smile and keep me company, and that's how I started falling for him. But the sadness didn't go away for good—it just came b-back when he would go. This went on for a long time, and with it, my feelings for Akihiro grew. I wanted him to always be with me, because at least with him around, I could keep the sadness in check, but as time passed by, I realized how . . . how selfish it might be, and it made me feel really g-guilty.

"When the two of us finally got together, I thought that maybe, just maybe, things would be fine from that point on, that the rainclouds would go and the voices that I hear in my head would vanish. Akihiro told me that it was all going to be okay, that he'll make sure that I'm always happy. But after that, things got worse. That's when I started having those nightmares about losing Akihiro, and I was so scared b-because they all felt so real. If I lost him, I don't . . . I d-don't know what I'd do. I started thinking about the possible reasons why he would leave me like he did in my dreams, and somehow, my brain told me that it was all because I'm a burden, that I was selfish like I always w-was. That's what the voices keep telling me all the time. . .

"That's when I realized that if only I could always be strong and happy, I wouldn't have to rely so much on Akihiro, and he or you or anyone else wouldn't have to be bothered by my problems. That way, everyone can b-be happy."

_Even if I'm not_.

Neither Sayori nor Monika spoke for a while. Outside, students passed by on their way home, unaware of the sadness that was prevailing inside the classroom. Quick tears formed at the corner of Sayori's eyes, trickling down her cheeks and onto her sleeves.

Monika stood up from her seat, knelt down next to her, and embraced her comfortingly. Sayori didn't move, imagining just how similar the hug was to what Akihiro had done back then. The thought made more tears fall from her eyes, and she couldn't stifle a few sobs.

"There, there," said Monika kindly, stroking her back as she hugged her. "I understand where you're coming from, Sayori, don't worry. There's nothing wrong with what you said, so don't think about it like that. However, I'm going to tell you a few things, okay?"

"O-Okay. . ." said Sayori, her voice trembling.

With that, Monika broke away from her, held both of her shoulders in a slightly firm grip, and looked straight into her eyes. "I'm not going to pretend to have all the answers to what you're going through right now, but I will tell you this, Sayori. It might go against what you're thinking, but still . . . if you ever have thoughts like these, you can come to me or Kenta or anyone else, and we can talk about them. We'll be there to listen. We won't force any solutions on you because only you can decide what to do about everything, but we will listen and keep you company. You can just talk to us online or through the phone. It doesn't have to be in person. No matter what, we'll listen, okay?"

When Sayori nodded to show that she had understood, Monika continued. "Also, I don't want you imagining that these problems make you selfish or horrible in any way. People experience these kinds of things—they're just as real as anything else. Don't beat yourself up over them, okay? They don't make you any less of a person. You're still Sayori to us, to me. You're not worthless or bothersome just because of these problems. There's more to you than that."

Sayori sighed, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I'll t-try to remember that, Moni. T-Thanks. . ."

Monika smiled. "I hope you do, Sayori."

Sayori paused for a moment. "Y-You're not going to say that I should t-tell Akihiro?" she asked nervously.

"If you ask me, of course I'd want you to tell him," Monika admitted, "but that's another thing for another time, when you're ready to do so. It won't do if I force you to do it immediately. Just . . . when you're ready, Sayori, I hope you can find the courage to tell Akihiro. Again, it might go against the idea that you've been fostering, about not wanting him or anyone else to worry about you, but . . . being strong and independent doesn't mean that you always have to take on everything by yourself. It also means growing and learning alongside others, and accepting the weaknesses we might have."

Sayori stared at her. The voices were mysteriously quiet, probably because it wasn't Akihiro who was speaking to her, or because Monika's kind aura was dispelling them. "N-No wonder you're the president in your club, Moni. You sound like a true leader when you s-speak like that."

Monika let out a nervous giggle. "Do I? Well, thank you, I guess. But Kenta should take the credit for that piece of advice. Those are things that he told me back then, when I was having problems of my own, too. I think they're worth repeating for you and anyone else who needs a boost."

Sayori let out a nervous laugh. "Kenta scared me a bit the first time that Akihiro and I met him in person, but I didn't expect him to be really nice and open like you. You two are perfect for each other."

"Oh, really? How about you and Akihiro? Remember what I told you two at the mall? I meant that, you know?" said Monika jestingly. When Sayori blushed and failed to stammer out a reply, she giggled some more.

"That reminds me," said Monika as she stood up, "I haven't told you about this yet, but I'm planning a little get-together sometime soon, just like the surprise visit we did on you last time. It's what I was going to talk to you about, but the discussion we just had kind of, er . . . sidetracked things."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" said Sayori worriedly.

"No, no, it's okay," Monika told her reassuringly. "I'll be honest, I want you and Akihiro to come along with us. I told Kenta to invite his best friends and their friends as well, so that there'll be a lot more of us there."

"I see," said Sayori, standing up from her seat as she slung her bag on her shoulder. "Is . . . Is Akihiro gonna come?"

"Well, yes. Kenta texted me and told me that he had talked to him about it at lunchtime earlier, and that Akihiro said yes. Is that okay with you?"

"Of course!" Sayori exclaimed in spite of herself.

Monika grinned. "There's no final date set for it yet, but if I had to give a tentative one, I'd say next month," she went on. As she spoke, she shifted a bit anxiously where she stood. "Ah, I really want you and Akihiro to be there, but . . ."

"Don't worry," Sayori told her. "I'm sure that going with him is going to make him happy. I'll do my best to feel better so that the two of us can come."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. You helped me feel better with all the things you said, Moni. If I can just keep remembering it whenever it's starting to feel like the rainclouds are coming, I know I can start doing better, too. If I forget, just p-please remind me, okay?"

"I will, Sayori. Just talk to me whenever you feel down, and I'll be there. But don't forget that Akihiro is also there for you, too."

"It might take me some time, but once I feel much better, I'll talk to him again and show him that I'm doing fine." Sayori managed a weak smile. "Thank you so much, Moni."

"Don't mention it, Sayori," said Monika genially.

Saying those words out loud, Sayori knew that there was still a long battle for her to fight, but with friends like Monika and with Akihiro as her inspiration, she mused that perhaps things can start looking up from here. Right now, the voices seemed to have fallen silent, and the rainclouds were just small shapes drifting in the horizon. Sayori hoped with all her heart that they would stay that way for a long time.


	28. Chapter 28 - Natsuki's Tale

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – NATSUKI'S TALE (NatSuke)**

Daisuke stared over the two new manga books that he had picked out from the shelves of the mall's bookstore—new arrivals, having been delivered only a day before according to a friend who had scouted things out for him. They were shoujo works, of course, both bound to capture Natsuki's interest. He wondered whether or not she would like to read something, though, given that they were also a bit more serious than most of the usual shoujo fare that she loved to read. Natsuki liked cute and pretty characters in equally cute situations and settings, though Daisuke knew that asking her about such things would earn someone an earful on a good day and a bruised arm on worse times.

In all aspects, the choices he was perusing reminded him of certain famed anime movies that he liked so much, and he sensed that perhaps Natsuki liked them as well—after all, her interest in anime and manga didn't fall under only those in published form. The first one was _Seiko's Calling_, which told the story of a young woman who runs away from the city life and her home in search for happiness and success in the countryside; the second choice was _Pursuit of my Heart_, which documented a teen girl on a daunting mission to find her pen pal when his last letter telling her about his departure to a new home fails to reach her.

With some thinking, Daisuke realized that the protagonists in both stories reminded him of Natsuki in a way; a quick peek at both stories told him of the determination and grit that both girls possessed, traits which Natsuki undoubtedly had. Perhaps that was why he had picked them out for his planned gift to her. Friends would ask what the occasion was for him to give her a gift, but there was none. It was simply an idea he got after Naoki told him and Kenta of how Yuri was giving him novels as gifts.

In the end, Daisuke decided on buying Natsuki _Seiko's Calling _instead, as it seemed to have a potentially happier ending compared to _Pursuit of my Heart_. As he walked out of the bookstore and the mall on his way home, he wrapped the white jacket that he wore over his school uniform tighter around him to ward off the autumn chill outside. Amid the urban cadence of passing vehicles, jumbled voices and the flutters of autumnal winds, Daisuke walked silently, contemplating the week that had just passed.

Sharing what happened between his parents to Natsuki had been unexpected on his part. Granted, he did trust Natsuki enough to tell her about it, just not almost immediately after a happy occasion like his mother's birthday. It had made for a sobering experience after the joy their little get-together had brought, but somehow, it also made his relationship with Natsuki even stronger. Ever since that night, she had been keen on asking about how his mother and his sister Hiroko were doing, and she was always glad to hear that they were doing well. In a way, Daisuke sensed just how much Natsuki appreciated being part of the small party they held, and how she now considered his mother and sister as good acquaintances.

When he arrived home later that evening, his mother had already finished preparing dinner. "You're just in time," she said as he entered their diner's kitchen. "Your sister should be coming downstairs any minute now."

"Good, because I'm starving," said Daisuke excitedly; indeed, the smell of freshly cooked pork shogayaki and stir-fried veggies had jumpstarted his appetite the moment he caught wind of it.

"I thought you'd eaten at the mall already," his mother stated.

"Mom, you know I wouldn't miss your cooking for the world," Daisuke told her.

His mother laughed. "Flattery won't get you another allowance increase."

As Daisuke laughed with her, Hiroko entered the kitchen. "Alright, time to chow down," she muttered. "Where've you been, Dai?"

"Mall," said Daisuke in reply as the three of them sat down at the table. "Just bought some stuff."

"You mean a gift for your girlfriend?" said Hiroko with a smirk.

Of course, it was a guess made in humor, but it couldn't have been truer. Their mother looked at him eagerly. "Oh, what did you get her?" she asked.

"Really? Are we gonna do this right now, guys?" asked Daisuke.

"Oh, come on, Dai!" said Hiroko, laughing. "I'm sure Mom has already given her blessing for you two. You can be sure that you've got mine!"

Knowing it was better to admit the truth than to prolong the discussion, Daisuke let out a sigh. "Alright, I bought some school stuff _and _a little something for her."

"Did you get her flowers? Candy?" asked their mother as Hiroko giggled some more. "I'm certain that a girl like her would appreciate nice little gifts like that."

"Not really," replied Daisuke a bit nervously. "I bought her a new manga book."

"Oh, more of that anime stuff, huh?" said Hiroko. "Good to hear that she shares interests with you, little bro. Just makes you that much cuter of a couple!"

Since their mother's birthday celebration, Hiroko had been unrelenting in teasing Daisuke, joking about how he and Natsuki made a very cute couple in certain aspects now that she had seen them together at last. Daisuke chuckled to himself, wondering how Natsuki would react to both the idea of being called cute by Hiroko and the idea of being paired with him. As he saw earlier, even his mother would occasionally join in, stating how happy she was about Daisuke going out with a girl like Natsuki when he had spent the entirety of his school years having no girlfriend. That Daisuke always reiterated that Natsuki was not his girlfriend yet didn't seem to bother his mother in the slightest.

Their banter continued throughout dinner, with Daisuke going with the flow even as he felt embarrassed at some of the questions and statements that his sister made. Somehow, every time he tried to explain how manga had been the main binding force in his friendship with Natsuki, things became a bit more difficult to piece together—his mother, of course, didn't know much about manga, while Hiroko suggested that Daisuke started crushing on Natsuki because she reminded him of the anime girls that he drew during his free time. For Daisuke, his attraction towards Natsuki was brought by a lot of things, and not just her interest in manga: her tenacity and frankness, the kind and genuine heart she hid underneath her rough exterior, her passion for the things that she liked, and her loveliness. All these notions were cheesier than his favorite hamburger at _Big Tom's_, and yet they couldn't be any truer.

Later that night, as he sat on his bed staring at his gift for Natsuki tomorrow, Daisuke wondered where things were heading for the two of them. He knew that Natsuki would rather break a thousand legs than admit that she was reciprocating his feelings, but he sensed it all nonetheless. It made him happy and hopeful at the same time, though admittedly it also made him think what was in store for the future.

He shook his head. It won't do to think about the future just yet. For now, it felt best to enjoy the present instead, and Monika's planned jaunt seemed a good way to do just that.

* * *

When Natsuki arrived at school the next day, Daisuke was surprised to see her wearing a black face mask. It reminded him of the ones worn by commuters that he passed by on the streets, usually to ward off pollution. Many students wore them, though they usually took them off indoors. "Why are you wearing that?" he asked her as she sat down next to him.

Natsuki looked at him, her eyes looking dead serious. "I've got fall allergy," she muttered, her voice sounding rather hoarse.

"Oh, that explains it," said Daisuke. "Runny nose and all?"

"Yeah," said Natsuki. "I guess I'll be wearing this thing for quite a while. Autumn just sucks sometimes."

Daisuke smiled comfortingly at her. "Don't worry, I know how that feels," he told her. "Spring is hay fever season for me. Anyway, I got you something at the mall yesterday."

Natsuki looked at him again. Given that half of her face was covered by her mask, Daisuke found it rather interesting to gauge her expressions and reactions through only her eyes. "What is it?" she asked.

He took out _Seiko's Calling _from his bag. "New arrival," he said brightly.

Natsuki's pink eyes widened in surprise as she took the book from him. She opened it and scanned a few pages, and Daisuke felt happy as he felt excitement and wonder emanate from her, as it always did whenever she read a new manga series. It would seem that this one was no different.

"It might not be the same as most of the shoujo works that I know you like, but it looks like a good one, don't you think?" he said.

For a few quiet moments, Natsuki continued looking through the book's pages, never dwelling for too long on a single page lest she accidentally read something about the plot halfway through. Daisuke knew that she was taking in the book's art style, characters and general feel. "Thank you," she said tentatively, "b-but . . ."

To Daisuke's surprise, she handed the book back to him. "I can't take this."

"Why not?" he asked. "Don't you like it? I mean, if you don't, I understand. I just thought-"

Natsuki let out a sigh. "No, I really like it," she assured him. "It's just that . . ."

"What is it?"

"The thing is . . . I lost the book you gave me last time. _Bubblegum Rocket Club_."

Natsuki sounded so embarrassed as she said the words out loud, but Daisuke, who was expecting something more serious, merely laughed lightly. "Oh, that? Well, that's okay."

"No, it's not!" Natsuki cried out. "I mean, I'm always harsh to you whenever you borrow my manga, and yet here I am losing the ones you lend me. I don't think I can accept this one, even if it's a gift."

"Natsuki, it's alright," Daisuke said in a reassuring tone. He could tell that Natsuki really wanted to keep his present in spite of her guilt. "I can always buy a replacement once I save up some allowance. Besides, it's not like this is the first time I've lost a book in my collection."

"B-But . . . I'm sure that this is the first time you lost one because of someone else!"

"Yeah, but I'm telling you, it's fine, okay?" he said kindly. "Don't worry about it! Um, if you don't mind me asking, though, how did you lose it?"

Natsuki sighed again. "I don't know," she murmured. "I think I lost it when I was downtown a couple of days ago. I must've misplaced it in one of the stores I went into. . ."

For the better part of the morning, Natsuki seemed so dejected about losing his manga copy that Daisuke decided to double down on helping her feel better. After all, having allergies and losing manga in the same week were things that he could relate to, and he didn't want Natsuki's day to end on a sullen note if he could help it. Even high marks on their latest Science quiz did little to brighten up her mood, and she barely raised her hand to participate in class recitations. Sensing that she wanted to be left alone, Daisuke agreed to her request to let her eat alone for lunch, musing that it would be good to give her some space. On the other hand, he did his best to coax her into accepting _Seiko's Calling _so that she could have something to read after lunch. When he greeted her with the book after she returned from eating, Natsuki looked at him with petulance, her eyes showing just how self-conscious she was at the thought, but Daisuke would have none of it.

Though Natsuki still didn't accept the book, she did open it again and read the first few pages with him when he gave it to her again. "Looks really good," she admitted quietly. "Reminds me a lot of those Makoto Shinkai movies."

"I know what you mean," said Daisuke. "So, do you like it?"

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't, but . . . is it really okay if I keep this?" asked Natsuki.

"Of course, Natsuki," replied Daisuke. "Like I said, it's a gift, okay?"

Natsuki stared at the book one more time. "Alright, fine, I'll keep it. T-Thank you so much."

Though he was a bit surprised at how easy that was, Daisuke took it in stride. "You're very much welcome," he said cheerfully.

"But is it . . . is it okay if I ask you to keep it safe for me in your locker?"

"Sure thing! But why not store it in _your _locker?"

Natsuki fidgeted anxiously. "Well, the thing is that . . . I've started keeping most of the manga I have in my locker, so there's not much space left in there. I've been doing that to make sure that I don't lose any more of them—at least I'll be able to keep track of them here in school. Is t-that okay with you?"

"Oh, well, that's fine," he told her. "Just ask me when you wanna read it, okay?"

"Yes, thanks," said Natsuki gratefully.

Even though she accepted the book, Natsuki still didn't seem to feel better, as she continued most of the day in a subdued mood. Daisuke noticed that she also frequently went to the restrooms, though he sensed that it was because she was washing her face and nose to relieve her autumn allergies, like he would whenever hay fever struck him. All the same, she never took off her face mask, and given that they didn't eat together for today, Daisuke didn't see her without it all day. When their other classmates had asked her about it, she merely brushed them off with her characteristic brusqueness, and knowing how Natsuki tended to snap when prodded some more, no one bothered to ask further. Daisuke knew that it was the stress of having allergies that was giving Natsuki such a cranky mood. Because of this, he decided to take things one step further by asking her out and keeping her company.

Natsuki looked anxious at the thought when he asked her later that day. "Why?"

Where Natsuki was concerned, Daisuke knew it was good to be honest. "I want to help you feel better. I know allergies can be a real pain for a week or so, and with everything school's throwing at us, it's gonna be a bit stressful, right? So let's just go out tonight, have some fun, eat out and stuff!"

"Um, you're r-right." Natsuki cast her gaze down, avoiding his eyes. "Well, I . . . I d-don't know. . . I mean, it's just that m-my dad might get mad if I don't come home early."

"Oh, are your parents gonna be expecting you to go home early?"

"Well, only my dad," said Natsuki. "He usually comes home late during Tuesdays, but I'm just scared that he might come back home and I'm not around. . ."

"How about your mom?"

Natsuki sighed. "D-Don't worry about her. Anyway, I'm still not sure. . ."

Daisuke placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Well, I wouldn't want your dad to get mad, so . . . if you're not free, I understand."

"No, w-wait!" Natsuki closed her eyes tightly, as if the stress of being unable to decide was causing her physical pain that Daisuke could sense beneath her face mask. She wrung her hands tightly together.

"Alright, fine. Let's go."

Daisuke knew that it was characteristic of her to hesitate whenever she was asked out like this, but the thought that her father might get angry at her for it made him anxious. "Are you sure about that?" he asked her.

"Y-Yeah. I'd rather be anywhere b-but home right now anyway. . ."

Before he could ask anything else, she slung her bag onto her shoulder and started walking out of the classroom. Having no other option than to get on with things, Daisuke took his bag and followed hurriedly, catching up to her at the school doors. It seemed rather odd for Natsuki to change her mind rather quickly considering how worried she sounded when she mentioned the possibility of getting into trouble with her father, but he decided to ignore that for now.

"We can just eat out if you want," he told her as the two of them left the school. "That'd give you enough time to get home before your dad does. It'd be also nice if you could get some rest from your allergies."

"Oh, I'm not really that hungry today," she told him. "If you're gonna eat, go ahead. I'll just hang around with you while you do. I didn't even manage to eat everything that your mom prepared for me. I'm s-sorry about that."

"No, it's okay," said Daisuke. "I just want to ask, though. Are you feeling well? How are your allergies doing? Are you taking any medications for them?"

Natsuki looked away. "N-No, not really. . ."

Daisuke stared at her intently. "Alright, maybe we should just call this off and go out some other time instead so you can go home and get some rest."

"I told you before, I don't want to go home yet, okay?!" Natsuki snapped. Her irritation, however, ebbed away as quickly as it appeared. "I'm sorry. I didn't m-mean to shout like that," she added in a more remorseful tone.

Knowing now that something more than simple autumn allergies was bothering Natsuki, Daisuke decided to put his foot down. "Let's find a place we can go to, and let's talk there for a bit, okay?" he asked in a calm but firm voice.

Natsuki bowed her head. "Okay, f-fine."

In about ten minutes, the two of them made their way to one of the parks close to the night market downtown. Because the bulk of the people in the area were converging at the night market to buy food and other things, the park was left with little to no people, giving the two of them some privacy. Daisuke led the way towards a nearby stone bench that sat beneath a large, beautiful maple tree, away from the park's main pathway of paved brick. The tree's fallen leaves seemed to glow red against the park's green grass, offering a contrast of colors that was pleasing to the eyes.

In spite of this lovely sight, Daisuke remembered Natsuki's allergies. "Is it okay if we sit here? The trees and grass might, er, you know. . ."

He waved his hand across his nose to signify what he meant. Natsuki, however, seemed unmoved. "I'll be fine," she replied. As if to prove her point, she adjusted her face mask and took a deep breath.

"Well, if you say so," said Daisuke.

At that, the two of them sat down on the bench. There was a bit of space between them, something that Natsuki seemed keen on maintaining—perhaps she was trying to stop her allergies from affecting him, Daisuke mused. For a while, only silence prevailed. True enough, Daisuke wanted to talk about her current state as his worry started mounting, but now that the time for it had actually come, he felt hesitant. As he struggled to think of what to say, Natsuki didn't say anything as well.

Daisuke looked at her. Somehow, he felt that looking into her vividly pink eyes would give him the courage he needed to start speaking, and it did.

"Natsuki, I know there's something bothering you," he began. "Allergies can make anyone feel stressed out, but . . . I think there might be other reasons why you're like this today."

"What?" asked Natsuki defensively. "W-What do you mean, 'like this?'"

"I can tell that you're not yourself today," said Daisuke. "I've been observing you all day, and with the way you're acting and the things you said about not eating properly . . . Well, the thing is that this happened before, right? Remember what I said about helping you whenever you're having a rough day?"

Natsuki looked away. "You really like making me feel awkward, don't you, dummy?" she muttered.

Daisuke blushed. "I'm sorry about that, but . . . ever since that day when you nearly collapsed, I had to start being more alert, you know? I . . . I don't w-want that or anything similar to happen anymore. For a while now, I've been thinking about . . . about what's happening at your home."

Natsuki's face seemed expressionless, but Daisuke could sense something building up beneath her face mask. He went on. "I know it's something that I shouldn't really be poking into because it's a personal thing, but if it makes you feel bad or down like this, I don't think I can ignore it for too long anymore. Ever since that day when you went to school hungry, I haven't been able to keep my mind off of what might be happening at your home. After the party we had for Mom, you told me about how things got a bit hairy at your place as well, and earlier, you told me about how you didn't want to go home just yet even if your dad's expecting you to. Right now, I can't help but try to ask about it all, just so I'll know if what I'm thinking about is justified or not. Natsuki, I care about you, so if there's anything that's bothering you, I wanna make good on my promise to help you with it."

At times, the burden of speaking too much felt just as bad as the thought of speaking too little. Daisuke wondered what the consequences of his words would be, and he tried for a moment to think of what else he could say—and whether he should keep quiet instead.

After a few moments of silence, Natsuki stood up and turned away from him. Daisuke saw that she was trembling, and when she spoke, her voice shook as well. "I knew this day might come, b-but . . . why, Daisuke? Why did you have to be so nice to me?"

Daisuke stood up from the bench as well. "Natsuki?"

When Natsuki turned back to face him, her eyes were sparkling with tears. The sight of them broke Daisuke's heart for some reason. "Darn it, fine. I never thought of m-myself as a good liar anyway. I'm . . . I'm gonna try telling you everything, s-starting with your manga book that I lost."

A creeping feeling of trepidation gripped Daisuke's heart, as if something horrible was about to happen. "O-Okay, go ahead," he said cautiously.

Natsuki took a deep breath, as if she was preparing to deliver a speech in front of a massive crowd. "I didn't actually lose the book somewhere. The thing is that . . . m-my dad found it in my room. He hates it when I read manga b-because he thinks that I'm just spending my allowance on it. We're not that well-off, so money is hard to come by, and if I spend my allowance on anything other than the most important stuff that I really need, he gets mad. _Really_ mad. That's the reason I started keeping my manga at school, b-because this kind of thing happened b-before. . ."

Daisuke felt shaken as he stood there, digesting what Natsuki was saying. "W-Why? What happened before? What did he do?" he asked quietly.

"I told him that I didn't actually buy the book. I told him that I borrowed it from someone, but he . . . h-he didn't believe a word of it. He thought I was lying, and he said that this m-might be the reason I asked for some money a while back—r-remember the group project we had back then, and those cupcakes I baked for your mom? Anyway, h-he started yelling all sorts of things at me, like how I was just stealing money from him just to buy manga, how I was a no-good liar, and that I was making everything more difficult for us. . . He got so mad that he . . . h-he took the copy and just ripped it to pieces."

Natsuki's words painted a terrible image in Daisuke's head as he imagined the scene. "And t-then?"

Wringing her hands painfully together, Natsuki bit back a sob. "I'm sorry, Daisuke. I t-tried to stop him, I did, but he just kept going at it until the book was completely ruined. He went downstairs and threw what was left of it in the trash. I got so frustrated at him, because he didn't have to do something like that, so I followed him and repeated what I told him, that the book wasn't mine. That's when he . . . w-when he . . ."

His ruined manga being the least of his worries right now, Daisuke felt dread well up in him, dread that he never thought he'd feel.

"When he what . . . ?" he asked.

With a trembling hand, Natsuki took a hold of one of her face mask's straps and pulled it off of her ear. At the back of his mind, Daisuke was expecting to see Natsuki's nose getting runnier from both her allergies and the fact that she was crying in front of him. Of course, at this point in their conversation, it was foolish to expect anything as innocent as that. After all, he should've guessed that somehow, Natsuki had lied about having allergies even before they had arrived at the park.

But he never would have guessed that it would be as serious as what was coming.

Natsuki's face would've looked normal as usual if it weren't for the unmistakable bruise on her right cheek, or the dried-up cut on her bottom lip near it, or the way both areas of her face seemed to swell slightly. The sight of them gave Daisuke a surreal feeling, as if he was looking at something that was too foreign to be true, like a scene ripped straight from a movie or an excerpt from a compelling narrative of fiction. It was the last thing he expected to see, least of all on a face as innocent and familiar as Natsuki's, and it made him feel lightheaded. This disbelief soon gave way to a wave of overwhelming shock and horror as Daisuke pieced everything together: Natsuki's days of hunger, her defensive attitude, the way she never mentioned much about her home situation—and now, her statement earlier about not wanting to go home just yet in spite of the risk that lay before her.

When he tried to speak, all that came out were gasps and stammers as he tried to put into words a reply to everything he had heard. Before he could speak properly, however, Natsuki cut across him.

"I'm not trying t-to make you feel sorry f-for me. I just w-wanted you to know because . . . b-because I trust you, Daisuke. When I'm with you, I feel secure and safe, and that makes m-me really, really happy. . . When you stay w-with me at school, when you keep me company even d-during the times when I'm really stubborn or cranky or harsh, it helps me g-get through the day, even if I might come home and get scolded or hurt b-by my dad again. I'm used to all that n-now, but this, all this comfort and happiness that I'm experiencing whenever I'm w-with you . . . the only other time I felt so happy and secure was w-when my mom was s-still . . ."

Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Natsuki took another deep breath. "She died w-when I was ten. She and Dad got into a car accident on their way to school for a play that I was p-part of. . . Dad pulled through, but his injuries caused him to be laid off from work. Since then, everything just went from bad to worse. Dad can't find any decent work because his body doesn't work like it used to, so we have to rely on our relatives so that we can get by and so I can keep going to school. In the meantime, he is just getting worse—he drinks and smokes, and sometimes he just . . . forgets about me, but if y-you ask me, those are the times when I feel like I'm s-safe from him, you know?

"Somehow, I can tell that he's blaming me for w-what happened to Mom because they were coming to watch me perform at school, and I think that that's the reason he takes his anger out on me most of the t-time . . . And not just that, there are times when I think that . . . t-that it really is my fault that Mom died. . ."

She looked at him, smiling in spite of her tears. "When your mom was being really nice to me, it made me really happy, because it made me remember . . . w-what it's like to have a mother. When you invited me over to your place, I wanted to just s-stay there forever with y-you and your mom and your sister. I didn't want to go home anymore. I'm sorry if that sounds c-crazy or whatever, it's just . . . j-just . . ."

Unable to continue, Natsuki sat back down on the stone bench. Her head was bowed, and the face mask she wore to hide her hurt face still dangled uselessly from her ear. Daisuke watched her cry, still paralyzed with shock from everything she had narrated. It was already emotionally taxing to listen to it all and process it, so he wondered how utterly devastating it was for Natsuki to narrate it.

When he finally felt compelled to move, he went towards her slowly. His own hands were trembling badly, and his chest felt like it was being torn apart. And then, much like the day when Natsuki had almost collapsed from hunger, he knelt beside her and stared resolutely into her face, trying to muster up the courage to not look away. The bruise on Natsuki's cheek seemed more pronounced now that he was this close to her, and it made his heart break.

Daisuke reached out and cupped his hand on Natsuki's face, bruise and all. With his other hand, he took off her face mask and placed it down next to her. Her tears felt hot as they ran down his fingers. Natsuki looked at him for a moment, her lip quivering as she sniffled and hiccupped, trying to steady her breathing. He sensed that she was trying—and failing—to calm herself now that he was looking at her intently.

In response, Natsuki held her hand out and cupped his face. Her touch felt warm and comforting, even if she was the one in dire need of such sensations. As he felt her fingers graze the skin of his face softly, as he continued to watch Natsuki cry in front of him, Daisuke felt tears form on his own eyes, blurring his vision increasingly as they welled up.

He shifted closer and caught Natsuki in a tight embrace, stroking the back of her head gently. Natsuki answered by wrapping her arms just as tightly around him, burying her face into his shoulder, crying as she did so. For a long while, all Daisuke could say was her name, as if it offered him the strength he was looking for. His voice was hoarse, almost like he had forgotten how to speak temporarily. He stared ahead, at nothing and at everything around them, as his mind began comprehending the gravity of Natsuki's home situation. For some reason, it made him feel fearful for her as he imagined everything else that she had left unspoken.

"I'm sorry. . ." Natsuki whispered, still sobbing. "I'm s-sorry for telling you all this. . ."

Somehow, that steeled Daisuke's resolve. He broke away from her and grasped her shoulders firmly, staring once again into her face. "Natsuki . . . does no one else in your family know about this? Like, y-your relatives or something?"

Natsuki shook her head dejectedly. "They might not believe m-me, and if my dad finds out, he might just . . . g-go crazy, you know?"

In Daisuke's mind, horrible scenes rushed past—Natsuki being yelled at, Natsuki being forced to watch her manga being torn to pieces before her eyes, Natsuki trying to sleep on an empty stomach, Natsuki being slapped and beaten. He imagined her crying in her bed, her face worse for wear than it was now, her sobs going unheard by no one except a . . . a _monster _who ignored them. He imagined the days that Natsuki came to school looking like nothing was wrong, and how much was actually hidden underneath that façade, and who was the cause of all of it. It fueled him with an awful anger, one that he never expected to feel in his life, not even against someone he'd consider his enemy.

"I hope I never run into your dad on the street," he stated silently, even if he had no idea what Natsuki's father looked like. "I seriously hope that never happens. B-Because if I do . . . I don't know what I might end up d-doing."

His touch hardened as he let his anger course through him. Natsuki must have felt it as well as the dangerous tone in his voice, because she grasped his arms just as tightly. "No, don't say that, okay? I'll b-be fine. There are always days like this for me. I'll just have to wait them out."

"But it's been years since your mom d-died, Natsuki. _Years_. You're telling me that your dad's been like this for that long? What if he does something worse? W-What if he ends up hurting you so badly t-that . . ."

Daisuke's words failed him as his brain flashed worse scenes than the ones he had just imagined before. "H-How about your friends and classmates before? Didn't y-you tell anyone about . . . about t-this?" he asked.

Natsuki looked away. "There w-was no one to tell them to. . . But don't worry about it, Daisuke. I've been through this before, like I said. Once my dad calms down, I know that things will g-go back to normal."

"_Normal?_" Daisuke muttered. "No sane dad would hurt their daughter like this! I don't want you to go through something like this ever again! D-Don't you think that you should leave when he becomes t-too much?"

"And go where?" asked Natsuki despairingly. "I can't go anywhere. I'm scared of my dad, Daisuke, but I'm also s-scared of what might happen if I lose him. I've lost Mom already, and . . . I don't want to lose Dad as well. My family's broken enough, I don't w-want it completely destroyed. If he goes, I'll . . . I'll have no one."

Daisuke held her hands. "You have me."

It was a bit of a foolhardy statement, to be sure, especially given how young the two of them were and how tremendous the severity of the problem they were facing was, but Daisuke didn't care at that moment. All that mattered to him was Natsuki's wellbeing. He had promised to help her with any problem she might have, and he would never let any obstacle or doubt or daunting parent get in his way.

Natsuki pressed her face into his chest as she began crying again. With a sigh, Daisuke slowly stood up, never letting go of her. Once again, he pulled her into a hug as his words faltered. His emotions had been riled up to the point where any logical answer seemed like the best one, but of course it was easier said than done for someone in Natsuki's situation. All around them, the sunset crept in and cast its glow upon the city, evoking an urbane beauty that belied the dismal stupor they were lost in.

"We'll figure something out, Natsuki," he whispered. "We'll figure something out, I promise. I'll help you no matter what happens."

Natsuki hugged him tighter. "Just d-don't do anything rash, okay? I don't w-want anything to happen to you. . ."

The horrifying scenes flashed again in Daisuke's mind, and he knew that there were no promises to that. Still, for Natsuki's sake, he tried to simmer down. "I won't. I'll just be here for you. I won't let you go through this alone."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Daisuke only vaguely realized that he had arrived back home. Truth be told, he wanted to stay with Natsuki for a little while longer at the park, to keep her company and dry her tears and make sure that she would be alright. However, Natsuki had told him that simply opening up to him like that helped give her a bit of relief, and that she was going to be alright once she got home. As she put her face mask back on and made her way home, he had watched her go with a heavy heart.

Feeling too emotionally exhausted to eat dinner, Daisuke excused himself from the kitchen and made his way up to his room. He stared around at the walls, which were decorated with both anime posters and a number of his favorite anime sketches, and at his bookshelf where his prized manga collection and some of his anime action figures were. He sat down on his bed and took off his shoes, still observing his room as if he was seeing everything in it in a whole new light.

A home was meant to make a person feel safe and secure. It was, after all, the place that one grew up in, and was more familiar than any other place that they might encounter. It was a place where families bonded as they lived together through thick and thin, sharing burdens but also looking for ways to optimistically manage through them. Daisuke knew that it didn't take riches or creature comforts to make a good home—sometimes, even one's family members were more than enough to make a home a truly safe and joyful place.

Of course, such an idyllic scenario was a luxury that not all people could afford to have. Natsuki's tale had certainly told him that. As he stared at the anime posters and his favorite sketches on the walls, as he glanced at his prized manga collection on a nearby bookshelf, as he felt the comfort of his bed beneath him, Daisuke knew that these were the simple but meaningful things that Natsuki deserved to have as much as he did. She deserved to eat properly every day and go home without worrying about what was in store for her. She deserved to do whatever she wanted to do without someone judging or outright punishing her for it. Most of all, she deserved to have good parents that would take care of her and make sure that she got all of these things.

Once again, anger formed inside Daisuke's mind. He picked up his shoes and threw them aside rashly, imagining what Natsuki's father looked like and wishing that he could at least have one run-in with the man so that he could give him a piece of his mind. Somehow, he reminded him of his own father, but then again, he wasn't as horrible as Natsuki's father was. True enough, he had his lapses by being with another woman while he was married, but at least he never raised his hand to hurt his own children physically and emotionally, nor did he end things in an uncivil manner with their mother by being bitter or vengeful. For a long time, Daisuke imagined that others were luckier than he was for being able to grow up without coming from a broken family. Little did he realize that one of the people who meant a lot to him would have it much worse than he did.

His cellphone's beeping forestalled his grim mood for a moment. Daisuke took a look at it and saw a message from Natsuki.

"_JGH, dad's not here yet... sorry abt 2day. i hope ur doing ok. i'm feeling a bit better. tnx 4 being here 4 me, daisuke. i'm rly gr8ful for that... take care, see u 2morrow_"

As he read her text, Daisuke once again felt tears form on his eyes. He blinked them back and typed out a reply.

"_ur welcome. i'll see u 2morrow as well. thank u 4 trusting me. u take care of urself, ok?_"

After hitting "Send," he held his phone close to his heart, wondering what was in store for him and Natsuki from now on. The ominous feeling that something horrible would happen still lingered at the back of his mind, giving him a creeping sense of dread.

But amid that dread was determination, a spark in the darkness that Natsuki was wallowing in. No matter what happens, Daisuke knew that he must stand firm and do what he can.


	29. Chapter 29 - Lines

_A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters._

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE – LINES (YuKi)**

As autumn progressed, so did the schoolwork begin piling up for Naoki and the rest of the student body. Their first major exams were coming, and everyone was feeling the strain progressively as the days passed. Soon, instead of hanging out at various spots to talk and eat during lunchtime, students began bringing their books and homework with them, using what time they could spare to catch up on quizzes and recitations, or to ease the load a little for the next day. The library soon became a favorite haunt for a lot of students who wanted some more peace and quiet while studying, forcing some to stay in their classrooms instead. Of course, this reduction in the noise and general joy in the atmosphere was building up to a sweet release of excitement and elation once the exams were finished, but until then, there was nothing to do but bunker down and cram, cram, cram.

Given that he usually spent the remainder of his time at the classroom with Yuri, Naoki found little trouble studying with her there instead of going to the library. His fellows in their quadrumvirate—now called so after Akihiro Hasegawa from 3-B had joined their group—often finished their lunch early to catch up with their books and notes. Though he valued his time alone and how relaxing it could be, there were times when the stress made him miss his friends' company. Obviously, he had Yuri and Kenta with him in class, but instances like these meant that they were busy in their own ways as well.

For History class today, their professor had been lenient enough to give them the entire period to study and polish their notes in preparation for a long test tomorrow. There was still idle chatter in the classroom, but most of the students in 3-C were busy rifling through their notes and compiling reviewers in feverish silence, with Naoki being one of them. As he finished polishing up his notes, he closed his notebook and glanced over at Yuri.

Her head was bowed slightly as her magnificent eyes were focused on her own notes. Naoki shifted his glance over at Kenta to his right and saw that his fiery-headed friend was staring daggers at his notes like they had done him a personal wrong, grumbling inaudibly under his breath as he did.

Naoki leaned down his chair's left side and towards his bag to stow away his notebook and take out another one when a pen fell next to him, landing on the floor with a quiet tap. He glanced over to it and recognized it as Yuri's pen. He picked it up and placed it back on Yuri's armrest.

"You dropped this," he said as he did so.

Instead of replying or even looking up to acknowledge him, Yuri kept staring at her notes. Naoki sensed that she was either so engrossed in reviewing or spacing out.

"Yuri?" he asked, tapping her arm lightly.

Yuri twitched in her seat as if she had just received a sudden electric shock. Her reaction startled Naoki a little as well. She looked at him nervously. "Y-Yes?"

"Are you okay?" he inquired.

"Um, yes," replied Yuri, wringing her hands together. "D-Did you need something?"

"Not really," said Naoki. "You dropped your pen. I just put it back on your armrest, that's all."

Yuri looked blankly at her pen. After a few seconds, she snapped to attention once again. "Oh! I didn't even notice that I dropped it. I was a little too busy w-with my notes and all. T-Thank you."

Naoki watched as she straightened herself, arranging her notes with hands that shook slightly. Other papers were strewn across her armrest, as if she had been trying to fit her other notes as best as she could on the small space her chair offered. More minutes passed by as the two of them continued studying. When it felt that it had been quiet for too long, Naoki punctuated the silence once more.

"Rough week for all of us, hmm?" he remarked.

This time, Yuri didn't flinch in surprise at him. "Yes, I agree," she said quietly, "and it's bound to become even more taxing as the days pass us by."

"Yeah, it won't take long before I start cramming again," said Naoki.

Yuri paused for a moment. "It wouldn't hurt to have someone to study with, right? It would make the cramming a little less tedious."

"Well, sure. People often do group study sessions at each other's houses after school for times like these, but somehow, I still prefer studying alone."

For some reason, after Naoki stated his reply, Yuri looked a little put out. "I see. W-Well, I suppose you're right. . ."

Naoki glanced at her. "What is it?"

Yuri smiled nervously. "No, it's n-nothing. . ."

"No, really, what is it?"

Yuri wrung her hands together. "W-Well, the thing is . . . if you want, we could study together after school one of these days," she replied shyly. "But you s-said that you preferred to study alone, so I understand. . ."

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't think that you w-wanted to ask me like that," said Naoki, feeling slightly embarrassed that he had just unmindfully shut down Yuri's invitation before she even asked him. "It's okay with me!"

"Are you s-sure?" asked Yuri.

"Of course!" said Naoki. And then, to make up for what he had said earlier, he added, "I tell you what—we can go later after school if you want, to study for the test tomorrow and whatnot."

If Yuri was any bit startled by the sudden nature of his offer, it was blotted out by the excited gleam in her beautiful amethyst eyes. "Okay, if you say s-so," she said. "I do hope I didn't f-force you or anything."

"No, that's alright," said Naoki apologetically. "I shouldn't have spoken out of turn without waiting for what you had to say."

"Don't worry, y-you didn't," Yuri assured him. "I'm just glad that you're okay w-with it."

The day ended without any announcements for more quizzes or homework, but the tension still hung in the air as students anticipated the days to come. Some got ready for the group study sessions that they would be partaking in, whether at downtown or at a classmate's house, and a few milked the last minutes that the library had to borrow the books they needed for their projects or assignments.

As he and Yuri deposited their things at their lockers, Naoki couldn't help but notice how tense she seemed to be; she fumbled for a while with her lock's combination and dropped some of her things as she stowed them away in her locker. When she turned to face him afterwards, he saw that her cheeks were flushed.

"Yuri, are you feeling alright?" he asked her.

"Y-Yes!" replied Yuri breathlessly. "I'm just a little e-excited, that's all."

"I see," said Naoki. Admittedly, he also felt rather giddy now that he stopped to think about it. "So, where do you wanna go for our study session? A book café? A diner somewhere?"

The blush on Yuri's face deepened. "Actually, I w-was thinking that—um, if you want, t-that is—we can, um . . . g-go to, er . . ."

She embraced her bag tight against her chest. "We can go t-to my house," she finished.

Naoki stared at her, unsure of whether he had heard her correctly or not. "Your . . . Y-Your house?" he asked, flabbergasted.

Yuri looked worriedly at him. "I'm sorry," she said. "It m-might be too forward of me to ask you to go there!"

"No, don't worry, I understand," said Naoki with a nervous laugh. "I was just surprised, t-that's all."

"If y-you don't want to go there, it's okay," Yuri went on.

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" said Naoki hastily. "Um, how should I say this . . . Is it okay if we go there? I mean, would your parents mind?"

It was a question that made Naoki realize that apart from their passion in literature, there was little else that he and Yuri discussed about each other—their family life, for instance. Of course, that was hardly their fault, since it was always so worthwhile to discuss anything and everything about what the two of them read.

"Ah, well, I only live with my grandmother," said Yuri timidly. "My parents live in Hiroshima. They moved there for their work."

"Oh, that's pretty far," Naoki remarked. "Um, so . . . would your grandmother mind if I came over?"

"No, she's fine with it," said Yuri. "In fact, she often tells me that I should b-bring more friends often, but, well . . ."

Naoki understood what she left unsaid. He smiled. "Well, if it's no trouble, then I suppose we can go."

The smile that Yuri flashed him in return made her look like an excited child who had just been told a big surprise. It made him feel fluttery for some reason. "That's g-good to hear," she told him.

* * *

Yuri's house was quaint and modest, hearkening back to the Japanese houses of old. The architecture was simpler than most of the contemporary designs that other urbane dwellings in the city had, with more wood instead of concrete. Brown, grey and green gave the house an earthen appearance that was pleasing to the eyes, a fresh change from its modern neighbors. As Yuri opened the small front gate and led him through the front garden, Naoki saw flowers, shrubs and potted plants that have been taken care of meticulously, judging from the lack of weeds, wayward branches and fallen leaves anywhere. A wind chime swung lazily next to the front door, tinkling and ringing quietly as it was stirred by a small afternoon breeze.

The inside of the house was as rustic as its exterior implied. The first area to greet the two of them was a narrow hallway; sliding doors akin to traditional Japanese _fusumas_ and thin wooden walls divided one room from another, and the floor was made out of smooth, polished pine. Simple pastel paintings provided decoration alongside ordinary wall lights, with an occasional potted plant here and there. Yuri guided him as they walked through the hallway, their feet making quiet tapping noises against the floor. A relaxing herbal smell prevailed throughout much of the house, as if nature itself was lending a hand in maintaining the rural atmosphere within. From what Naoki could deduce, the place was most definitely an abode that would fit the calm, serene lifestyle of an old lady, or at the very least someone like Yuri.

As they reached the end of the hallway, Yuri opened a sliding door and peeked inside. "Hello, Grandmother," she said in greeting.

Naoki watched as she opened the door in full to reveal the house's kitchen, which seemed cramped from the way everything was compressed together, leaving little room for three people to maneuver in. There was a small dining table with four mismatched chairs, and shelves lined with various ingredients on the walls. A nearby windowsill had homegrown herbs lining it, positioned just right to be bathed in the sunlight. Wooden countertops, a small kitchen sink, a gas stove and an old refrigerator model provided the finishing touches.

An old lady was busy tending to a kettle and a pot on top of the gas stove. From the lines that prevailed over her ancient face and the wisps of silvery white hair that were escaping from the crown of her head, Naoki surmised that she was around seventy to eighty. Still, she moved with a pace that didn't seem to match her age, as she seemed to be cooking and getting what she needed from the nearby shelves just fine on her own. Judging from the way the kettle and pot boiled and hissed, Naoki guessed that they were the source of the house's herbal aroma.

Yuri's grandmother turned towards them. No matter how lined her face was, her eyes looked alert; Naoki noticed that she had the same color as Yuri's eyes, only a bit paler. "Ah, Granddaughter, you're home early today." When she took notice of Naoki, she leaned forward. "And who is this dashing young lad? Is he a classmate of yours?"

"Y-Yes, Grandmother," replied Yuri. "His name is Naoki. Naoki Nakajima."

Naoki smiled politely. "Good evening, ma'am."

The old woman looked closely at him, interest dawning on her face. "Nakajima? Is your grandmother's name Ami Nakajima, by chance? She's a good friend of mine. Lives just down the road from here."

"Ah, not really, ma'am," said Naoki. "I live closer to the creek, on Block 16."

"Oh, I thought you were her grandson or something," said the old woman. "Anyway, it's a pleasant surprise that you're here. I can't remember the last time my granddaughter brought visitors over."

"We'll only be s-studying together for a long quiz tomorrow, Grandmother," said Yuri nervously. "I hope that's okay with you."

"Of course, of course," said her grandmother in an airy tone. "If you two need anything, don't hesitate to ask!"

After a few more pleasantries being exchanged, Yuri led Naoki out of the kitchen and up the stairs opposite it. They entered another short hallway and passed by two more sliding doors until Yuri stopped at a third one, which stood next to an ordinary wooden flush door.

"H-Here's my room," she said shyly.

"Um, would your grandmother be fine with us studying in there?" asked Naoki.

As he observed Yuri some more, he could tell how much she wanted him around, but how she also felt conscious about her actions and words now that he was in their household. He was also self-conscious as well, particularly with the idea of being in a room alone with her. Obviously, he was sure that nothing unexpected would happen, but still. . .

"Well, I don't think she would mind that much, t-to be honest," said Yuri. "But is it okay if you stay out here for a short while? I'll just change into something more c-comfortable."

"Oh, yes, of course," said Naoki. "Take your time!"

With that, he stood and waited as Yuri went inside her room and closed the door behind her. While waiting, he looked around at the sights in the hallway, where a few more pastel paintings and decorative plants accentuated the rustic atmosphere. Based on how small and quaint the house seemed, Naoki guessed that Yuri's grandmother must have lived here alone for quite some time before Yuri moved in with her.

Yuri returned five minutes later. She was still wearing her school skirt, but she had swapped her top for a comfortable wool sweater. Given how cold the evening air was during autumn, Naoki couldn't blame her.

"I hope I didn't take too long," she said timidly. "C-Come in."

Like the kitchen, Yuri's room was small but cozy. Her bed sat in one corner, with white pillows and a matching bedsheet. A small desk sat in the opposite corner, laden with objects that piqued Naoki's interest; there were small, colorful candles and what looked to be a wooden cylinder of some sort, along with some small bottles filled with clear liquids of varying colors. A small dresser and a bookshelf containing a wide range of novels sat next to the door itself; Naoki knew that these were Yuri's prized reading materials.

"If you want, you can s-stay on my bed," said Yuri as she closed the door. "I'll be sitting at the desk."

"If you say so," said Naoki, still looking around her room. He pointed towards the things on her desk and asked, "Are those the scented candles you told me about last time? The ones you use while reading?"

"Oh, yes! Y-You've noticed them, I see," said Yuri, walking over to her desk. "Yes, these candles have varying aromas that help me focus whenever I get into some heavy reading. The thing is that each candle's scent has a certain effect on a person. This one, for instance," she said, picking up a pale purple candle, "is lavender-scented. It helps ease anxiety and calms the mind so that a person can relax. It's one of my favorite scents to use whenever I read, but there are also others that I like to use in various situations. For example, citrus can help lighten one's mood and give an energy boost of sorts, while cinnamon can act as a mental stimulant that can substitute for lavender."

Naoki smiled at the way Yuri spoke, as if she was introducing him to a new literary genre. "That's interesting," he said. "I never realized how much you knew about these kinds of things, Yuri."

Yuri blushed. "My grandmother is the one who got me into aromatherapy. She uses it to ease her mind and the joint pains she experiences at her age. Ever since she introduced me to it, I've read what I could about the benefits of aromatherapy, and it just became one of my secondary interests, next to r-reading. It almost feels like magic whenever the mood in the air changes because of the vapors from a scented candle."

"I might just have to try it out now that I've learned a bit about it from you," said Naoki, envisioning what kind of reading experience it would be to have a scented candle by his side at home. "What about that thing?" he added, pointing at the cylindrical vessel next to the candles.

"Oh, this is an aroma diffuser," replied Yuri, picking up the object in question. "It's a device that can emit aromatic vapors into the atmosphere by diffusing essential oils. It works like a scented candle in that regard, but the aroma it creates can prevail for a longer period of time, and to a starker degree. If you want, we can use the diffuser instead of a scented candle, so that I can show you how it works. W-Would that be okay with you?"

Naoki smiled. "You know this all better than I do, so lead the way. We can start studying when you're ready."

As he sat down on Yuri's bed as she had instructed, Yuri worked on the aroma diffuser, putting in a few drops of what looked like pale golden oil inside. She turned it on afterwards by pressing a small button on its side. Once she did so, Naoki saw a thin wisp of vapor rise steadily from a small hole at its top. Yuri explained that the oil she had put in was that of jasmine, which worked like lavender in the sense that it also soothed one's mind and mood. With how jittery and anxious she was earlier, Naoki knew that she needed such an effect to help calm her nerves, and it would also help him focus on his notes and reviewer.

With that, their study session began. Most of it went quietly as the two of them read notes and leafed through pages of their History book. Occasionally, they would puncture the silence by asking questions and comparing notes, and they would test each other by asking questions that might appear in their quiz. In Naoki's eyes, Yuri seemed to be doing her best to be a good host to a visitor like him while maintaining a quiet atmosphere to avoid disturbing the flow of their reviewing. He also sensed that she was still struggling a bit with the anxiety she was feeling and showing at school earlier, especially now that the two of them were alone in her own room. He still felt nervous as well, though he did his best not to show it so as not to make Yuri feel uncomfortable.

The diffuser did its work as well. Continuously, it puffed out its vapors until the room was steeped in an unseen haze of jasmine. Naoki found the smell rather refreshing when it reached his nostrils, and immediately he began to see what Yuri meant about aromatherapy. The longer he breathed in the sweet, fragrant smell of jasmine, the more his mind seemed to be refreshed and reinvigorated. He felt calm, as if the worries of tomorrow's History quiz and any other academic dilemmas that might come were gradually dissipating in the same way as the jasmine oil evaporated into the atmosphere.

When around half an hour had passed, during which everything had fallen quiet, Yuri began to move a bit more clumsily. Out of the corner of his eye, Naoki could see how she would scribble notes on her reviewer only to scratch them out and rewrite them. Twice, she fumbled with the papers on her desk, and she even dropped her book by accident as she did so.

Naoki frowned thoughtfully at this. "Yuri? Are you okay?" he asked.

Just like before at school, Yuri didn't immediately reply. Instead, she kept rummaging through her things as if she was looking for something. Closing his notebook, Naoki stood up and went next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Yuri?" he repeated.

Yuri jumped in her seat, staring wildly around at him. "Y-Yes?" she asked breathlessly.

"Are you okay? It looks like you're having problems with something."

Yuri brushed a lock of hair away from her face distractedly. "Yes, I'm alright. I w-was just trying to p-perfect a few of my notes. I couldn't quite write down things t-the way I want them to."

Naoki looked at the scratched-out notes and erasures she had made in her notebook. "I think it's time we took a short break, don't you think?" he asked earnestly.

Yuri sighed. "Ah, w-well, I was thinking of carrying on so that we'll be done sooner rather than later, but if you s-say so, it's alright. I'm sorry if I seem to be too flustered or something when I should be calming down."

"No, it's fine," said Naoki. "Just take a break, and we'll continue when you're doing better."

"Yes, I s-suppose so," said Yuri, standing up. "Um, if you'll excuse me, I'll just get some oolong tea downstairs. Perhaps that will help soothe my nerves. . ."

Without waiting for a reply, she left her room hastily. Naoki wondered why she had to ask for permission to do such a thing in her own home, but he guessed that she was merely being a polite host. He decided to wait for her by sitting at the foot of her bed, reopening his notebook to check what else he should write in it.

When Yuri returned, Naoki saw that she was carrying two small cups with her, holding them by their brims. "I g-got some tea for you as well," she said as she entered the room. "Be careful, it's quite hot," she added as she handed over one to him.

"Thank you," said Naoki with a cordial smile, taking the cup carefully from her. The familiar smell of oolong tea wafted towards him, mixing with the jasmine oil vapors that he had been breathing in for the past thirty minutes or so.

Yuri sat on the floor next to him, carrying her notes and her cup of tea. "Is it alright if I join you down here?" she asked.

"Yuri, this is your house and your room," said Naoki with an amused tone. "Feel free to do whatever you want. Don't mind me."

"Ah, I suppose you're r-right," said Yuri, giggling as her cheeks turned red. "I'm sorry."

For the next ten minutes, the two of them continued their review session on the floor, only standing up to get what things they needed from their bags. On Yuri's desk, jasmine oil kept being diffused into the air, though Naoki had already grown used to the sweet herbal smell it had to the point where he couldn't even notice it anymore. To his pleasant surprise, the oolong tea that Yuri had prepared tasted quite good, giving him a refreshed vibe. In stark contrast, however, Yuri didn't drink her own oolong tea, even if she had voiced her thoughts about making some to calm her nerves. Instead, her cup sat on the floor in front of her, next to her notes and Naoki's. Her flustered demeanor didn't seem to improve much, but Naoki decided to leave her be for now.

"Did you w-write down some of the parts that Professor Tanaka told us about?" asked Yuri worriedly after a while. "The one about the Muromachi period?"

"Oh, yes, I wrote down a few notes for that," replied Naoki. "Why?"

"I think I didn't write it down," said Yuri. "C-Can I copy your notes?"

"Of course!" said Naoki. "Here, it's . . . this page right here."

"Thank y-you. Hold on, I'll just—"

As Yuri made to grab her pen to copy his notes, however, her hand accidentally knocked over her cup. Oolong tea spilled onto the floor and—to Naoki's shock—some of his notes.

"Oh, no!" Yuri screamed, hastily grabbing the cup before it spilled any more tea. Meanwhile, Naoki quickly grabbed what dry papers and notes he could and set them aside. Once he had done so, he carefully picked up the papers that had been doused with tea, trying to salvage them.

"I'm s-sorry! I'm really sorry!" Yuri cried out.

"No, it's okay," said Naoki, though he still felt rattled at the idea that a good part of his reviewer might now be ruined. "Um, is t-there anything we can wipe all this with . . . ?"

"Ah, yes, h-hold on!" said Yuri hurriedly.

As she dashed out of her room, Naoki took the time to check out the damage that had been done to his papers, spreading them out on another side carefully so as not to rip any of them. The shock of what just happened made him feel a bit lightheaded, especially as he imagined that he might be cramming late into the night to rewrite these ruined notes. A bit of exasperation welled up in him, but it abated once he realized that everything was just an accident. Breathing deeply in the fumes of jasmine oil, he focused upon the task at hand instead.

Yuri returned with a clean cloth. She scrambled to the floor and started wiping up the spilled tea as quickly as she could. As she worked, Naoki tried to decipher the blotted out words on the sodden pieces of paper before him. He soon saw, to his immense relief, that the soaked notes were the ones he had written for previous lectures that were mixed in with his History reviewer, and that only two pages of his reviewer were ruined.

"Thank goodness," he exhaled. He looked over at Yuri to tell her the good news, but stopped when he saw her face.

Yuri had turned so red that she looked feverish. Her hands were trembling as she mopped up the last of the tea with the cloth in her hands, and her breathing was becoming more ragged. She kept her gaze down, as if she couldn't bear to look at him at the moment.

"Yuri?"

Yuri didn't move. Instead, she shrank backwards, as if she was expecting him to lash out.

"Y-Yuri, it's okay," he said quietly, scooting closer to her. "You didn't ruin anything important. I just checked everything, and—"

All of a sudden, Yuri stood up and went over to her desk. She opened the bottommost drawer there, took out something, slammed the drawer shut and ran from the room. Within moments, he heard a door slam, and Naoki guessed that she went in the door next to her room, as it was the only door in the hallway that wasn't a sliding one. Because her back was turned to him the whole time, and because she moved surprisingly fast, Naoki didn't catch a glimpse of what she took from her drawer, nor did he even manage to say something to stop her. Once again, shock coursed through him, and the lightheaded feeling he had seemed to intensify. Knowing that he should at least assure Yuri that she did nothing horrible, he stood up and went after her. As he left the room, the smell of jasmine seemed to cling to him, and his lightheadedness seemed to turn into a gradual dizziness the more he moved.

Upon approaching the door where Yuri had gone into, he heard the sound of running water; Naoki surmised that this was the house's bathroom. Gingerly, he knocked two times on it.

"Yuri?"

Only the sound of running water answered. For another minute, Naoki knocked and called out to her, occasionally glancing at the end of the hallway in case her grandmother went up the stairs to check on them.

"Yuri, please come out," he called out. "Everything's fine. You did nothing wrong."

At last, the door opened an inch. Yuri peeked out from behind it. Her face was still starkly red, and she was panting and trembling as she looked at Naoki fearfully.

"I'm s-sorry. . ." she whispered. "I'm really, r-really sorry. . ."

"No, Yuri. It's fine," he repeated. "What you did was an accident. Besides, not all of my notes were ruined. The ones that got spilled on weren't that important anyway."

Yuri looked down, apparently unconvinced. "I shouldn't have invited y-you here. . . I only ended up r-ruining your day. . . I asked for t-too much. . ."

"Don't say that, Yuri," said Naoki comfortingly. "Just . . . be more careful next time, okay? No harm done, so let's just carry on."

When she still didn't move, Naoki stepped closer to the door. "Please?" he asked imploringly.

Slowly, with a resigned sigh, Yuri stepped out into the hallway to join him, closing the door of the bathroom quickly behind her. Without a word, she went back to her room, prompting Naoki to follow her inside. The diffuser had finally stopped puffing out jasmine oil vapors into the air, though the sweet, herbal smell still lingered in the atmosphere.

Sitting down at the foot of her bed, Yuri began speaking somberly. "I'm sorry. . . I think my . . . m-my anxiety got the better of me. . . I c-can't help it. Whenever I try to make things w-work, or when I try to keep everything in check, s-sometimes I end up doing the opposite. . . P-People say I'm smart, that I seem to have things under control, but I really don't. As you've undoubtedly j-just seen, I'm clumsy and distracted, especially during times like these. . ."

Naoki walked over and sat down next to her. "Stress tends to do that to everyone, even me," he said. "To be honest, I was worried that you might be under more pressure than I am. You don't have to worry, Yuri. I understand where you're coming from."

"Y-You do?" asked Yuri. Again, her face turned red, and she caressed her forearm gently.

Instead of replying, Naoki reached out and placed his hand atop hers. Yuri looked at him, startled, and her breathing began to grow shorter. Such a reaction was warranted—after all, he had never done something so straightforward before, and he knew that Yuri had yet to experience such a thing as well. Soon, even he felt like he was running out of breath, and his heart seemed to beat faster in his chest. Yuri's hand felt so warm against his as it trembled beneath his touch.

In mere moments, as he glanced at her, he was surprised to see that Yuri suddenly seemed so . . . close to him, as if she was inching forward towards his face. In his lightheadedness, Naoki noticed only vaguely that he was staring so deeply at her, like he had never seen her before in such a light. Yuri's mouth was parted slightly, and her gaze was dreamy, as if she was losing herself in his eyes.

Naoki coughed nervously, breaking the gaze as he looked away for a moment. The gesture seemed to wake up Yuri as well, as she suddenly drew back and bowed her head shyly. Like a spell, the aroma of jasmine continued to surround both of them like a mystical aura.

"Well, um . . . let's j-just forget about what happened, okay?" he said, looking at her once again. "Really, there was no harm done. I'm just glad that I managed to s-spend some more time with you today."

"M-Me, too," said Yuri, giving him a small but sincere smile. "Thank you."

Naoki felt relieved as he saw the expression. For him, such a smile from her worked better to ease his worries and stress than any kind of aromatherapy can.

* * *

As soon as she knew that Naoki was back at his own home, only then did Yuri feel completely relieved from the embarrassing accident she had caused earlier. The two of them studied for around half an hour more before they called it a day. All throughout, Yuri tried her best to carry on, keep her anxiety in check, and make sure that she wouldn't ruin anything else. She also volunteered to rewrite the notes she had ruined in an effort to make up for her accident, but Naoki insisted that he would handle it on his own.

What followed her relief, however, is an overwhelming feeling of dread. She had done it again. After going for so long without an incident, she had done what she promised never to do again. Whenever the stress of school life got to her, she always did her best to keep it all under control, no matter how quickly her heart began to beat, no matter how much she struggled to maintain her composure in front of people. For a long time, she resisted, and though there were moments when she would be reduced to a nervous wreck once she was in the privacy of her room, she was never pushed too far.

Until today.

Earlier, Yuri had made sure that Naoki didn't see the knife she took out from her drawer—the leaf-shaped one with the dark green handle, as it was the first thing that her hand touched when she made a running grab for it. She had hugged it tightly across her chest, away from Naoki's line of sight, and made a mad dash for the bathroom. Once inside, it was only a matter of rolling back her sleeve and . . .

Looking back at it, Yuri vehemently and desperately looked for reasons to justify what she had done earlier. Was it the way her heart felt like it would burst free from her chest? Was it the eyes that stared at her from the darkness, or the voices within that laughed and jeered, judging her for her clumsiness? She sensed that the agitated mood that overwhelmed her was due to the extra jasmine essential oil she put in the aroma diffuser—too much of a good thing, she knew—but was it solely just that? Perhaps she had just succumbed to the temptation of once again finding comfort and relief by subjugating her body through corporeal pain, like she was drowning in the ocean and the sole lifesaver within her reach was at the end of a knife's blade.

She rolled up her sleeve and looked at her handiwork. In her eyes, the seven fresh scars there looked like lashes from a whip, her body the slave, her mind the overseer. _So long without new ones. . . So long. . . _It felt surreal to even look at them, as if she was staring at someone else's arm, someone else's scars, someone else's vulnerabilities.

The relief she felt earlier from them had been ethereal, like she was spirited away to another world where she was safe, where everything was fine. The first cut had been a shock, but it was a familiar sensation, as if she was a swimmer who had taken the plunge after steering clear of the ocean for so long. Just like that, the second cut wasn't that bad anymore. By her fourth cut, there was no stopping the knife or her hand. It was as if she opened a valve to release the dangerous pressure that had been building up in her system, pressure that had been kept under check until earlier. It made her feel like she was finally in control, that she was establishing dominance over the stress she was feeling instead of her being the one dominated by it. Her breathing had quickened then, but more out of exhilaration rather than anxiety, a whole new high from her perspective. She remembered the scrape on her knee when she stumbled during their P.E. activity weeks ago, and how the pain she felt from touching the wound had distracted her from the overwhelming embarrassment she had felt. Was it wrong to seek such a form of respite again when the stress became too much for her to bear? Was she justified?

Yuri cringed, her train of thought stopping as she remembered just how close Naoki was to her during that vulnerable, grim moment. It was almost as heart-stopping as the last time that Libitina and _The Portrait of_ _Markov _came up in their discussions, wherein the girl was close to discovering her true parentage and what connected her to the fanatic cult that was so intent on tracking her down. It seemed curious that Naoki compared her to _Markov_'s heroine in terms of positives when he didn't know that, like Libitina, she had something sinister and dark hidden within her.

_He cannot know. He can never know._

Yuri unrolled her sleeve and covered her arm once again. She had already disinfected the scars earlier in the bathroom, but she hadn't taken the initiative of bandaging them up just yet. Since Naoki had left, Yuri knew there was nothing else to do but to continue studying for now. Tomorrow would be merely another chapter, no matter how dark or foreboding it can be.

As she straightened her sleeve, she gripped her forearm. Pain shot through her. Raw, shocking, cathartic. Yuri let it run its course through her being. She thought that the scars she had back then would be her last, but of course, such a thought seemed futile now, and she would have to live with these new ones she had made.

She sighed. When one falls back to square one, how long will it take before things go back to the way they were?


	30. Chapter 30 - Forthcoming

**CHAPTER THIRTY – FORTHCOMING (MoniKenta)**

As he walked along the hallway towards the debate club's headquarters, Kenta was excited. Today was going to be another Friday capped off by a date with Monika, and looking back at how grueling the past few days had been for everyone, the prospect of spending some more time with her came as an immense relief. Obviously, he was also totally fine with letting Monika have some space so that she can take care of more important things first, but she always seemed to find some time to be with him. Then again, he sensed that Monika needed some respite now more than ever from the stress of maintaining her grades and running the debate club, and she always reminded him how she often found such relief in his company.

Of course, today would be no different from the past meet-ups they've had. The two of them would share how their day and week went, vent about any frustrations or grievances, and laugh them off over a nice meal or a walk in the park. Such encounters were simple, to be sure, but they were always meaningful, and the experience definitely helped them bust stress and grow even closer to each other.

In no time at all, he reached the corridor where the clubroom was. He passed by a few of his friends along the way, with some of them preparing to go to the open field for football practice, or to the gymnasium for basketball. Kenta could not avoid the usual questions as to why he had declined joining the varsity team all throughout high school, though his answers always remained the same—he simply had other things to take care of.

As he approached the clubroom's door, he wondered whether to go inside and check on Monika or not, but his thoughts were soon put to a grinding halt as he heard a bit of commotion inside the clubroom.

Voices were speaking in raised tones, as if people were having an argument. Kenta knew that the debate club involved arguing about certain topics and proving which side was right, but somehow, he sensed that the din coming from within the clubroom was anything but debate practice. He was about to retreat some ways back down the corridor when he heard Monika's voice.

"—like this, Takeo," she said in a frustrated tone. "We simply do not have enough time to schedule weekly research and practices for the competition, not while we're about to deal with the exams."

Kenta bristled with annoyance as he heard a familiar voice speak. "Then we may as well forfeit our chances for the nationals. This is our chance to take the team to a bigger horizon, one that goes beyond local boundaries, and you want to slow down and give everyone a break? The committee is going to demand the preliminary list of credentials and sample researches soon, and they won't wait for anyone."

"Takeo, all I'm asking is for you to help me buy the club a couple of weeks to prepare for this," said Monika with exasperation. "Everyone can't work strictly by these schedules that you want, because they also have other matters to attend to."

"Interschool teams are molded through rigorous schedules and constant preparation," said Takeo in response. "If we show any sign of weakness to the higher-ups, we will never be considered good for the nationals. A couple of days a week is all that I'm asking—"

"Yes, but we'll take care of that _after _the exams!" said Monika. "Not everything that we deal with every week has to be about competitions all the time! Everyone has homework to take care of, quizzes to review for, and personal things in between!"

There was a slight pause before Takeo spoke again, this time with a bit of knowingness in his voice. "Well, I understand where you're coming from, Monika. After all, you do have a personal life to tend to outside of school. But of course, we can't all sacrifice the rudiments of the club for such trivialities, right?"

"What does that have to do with anything here, Takeo?" Monika's tone was tentative but firm.

"You're our president," replied Takeo. "During times like these, we cannot have you going soft on us, not if we want to make it to the nationals by January. A lot of people are looking to us to lead the club properly, and the nationals will be the crowning glory that we can achieve for our fellow members and the school. Can you imagine just how many students will be inspired to take our club a lot more seriously and even join our roster if we manage to achieve victory in the nationals?"

Monika sighed. "I know what you're getting at, Takeo, but—"

"I've put quite a lot on hold for this," Takeo interrupted, betraying a hint of impatience in his voice for the first time, "and I'm pretty sure that you can as well. Once this is all taken care of, you can devote all the time you want to your personal dealings outside of school. Besides, I'm certain that _he _would understand."

Kenta bristled, knowing that Takeo could only be referring to him. What angered him even more, however, was the way he was speaking to Monika. All of a sudden, it became clear to him just what she meant about Takeo becoming too much for the club and even her to handle when it came to things like this.

"Takeo, this is not about my personal life outside of school, nor is it about Kenta," said Monika sternly. "Stop making it sound like it is."

"Well, what else could it be?" asked Takeo with a bit of derision. "For all I know, your redheaded boyfriend could be one of the reasons why you're growing soft as a leader. It's typical of most underclassmen, I'm sure, but I was honestly expecting better from a student of your caliber. Perhaps it won't take long before you start skipping meetings just so—"

That was enough in Kenta's hearing. He reached forward and opened the door, staring at the scene before him. Silence fell as his presence was made known. Only Takeo and Monika were in the clubroom; Kenta guessed that the other members must have gone home already. Monika's eyes widened in surprise as she saw him; Takeo merely raised his eyebrows.

In spite of how startled she was, Monika found her voice and spoke first. "Kenta, what are you doing here?"

"Can we help you?" asked Takeo lazily.

Kenta took a step forward. "You got a problem with Monika or something?" he muttered, leering at Takeo.

The vice president gave him a cold smile. "Were you eavesdropping?" he asked casually.

Kenta strode forward. "Kenta—" Monika began, but he cut across her.

"Look, Monika's getting stressed out by a lot of things, and she doesn't need you adding anything else to that. You don't get to force your little decisions on her, alright? If she's not into what you're trying to say, take that into consideration. Better yet, take a hike as well, wise guy."

Takeo shot a sideways glance at Monika, his face tinged with amused bewilderment, as if he couldn't believe Kenta's audacity; then again, Kenta was also surprised at his own daring. "Typical," he murmured. "Well, I'm sure you have your reasons for being gallant enough to just waltz in here and interrupt our conversation like that, but if you don't mind, we're not yet done."

Kenta chuckled grimly. As he balled his hands into fists, his knuckles cracked audibly. "Oh, I think you are."

"Why? Do you two have an . . . urgent appointment or something?" asked Takeo, looking again at Monika with a smirk as he folded his arms across his chest. "Or is patience never really a virtue for someone like you?"

"Stop it, both of you!" Monika cried out, stepping in between them. She turned to Kenta and said, "Kenta, just wait for me downstairs, okay? This won't take long."

"I think it'd be better if I stayed here just in case, Monika," said Kenta grimly.

"No," Monika stated strictly. "You don't have to. Just wait for me by the school entrance."

"But Monika—"

"No, Kenta, no buts. I'll take care of this. Just go downstairs."

Her order rang loud and clear, going against the instincts that were ringing in Kenta's head. He stared daggers at Takeo, ready to keep arguing, but Monika's tone had brooked no disagreement. Takeo, on the other hand, merely kept staring at him with an infuriatingly lazy look on his face, as if what was happening before him was undeserving of any other emotional reaction from him. Kenta knew that a punch or two can easily change that, but he knew that it wasn't a good idea with Monika around.

"Fine," Kenta grumbled. With one last glare at Takeo, he strode out of the clubroom, careful not to slam the door behind him. As he marched toward the stairs, he heard Monika and Takeo resume speaking. He banged his fist against the corridor's walls, took a deep breath to stabilize his anger, and went down the stairs in grim silence.

Monika showed up ten minutes afterwards, meeting him at the school entrance. She looked so serious that Kenta grew a bit worried for a moment even as he spent the past few minutes still dwelling on his anger towards Takeo. He walked towards her, careful not to get too close lest she was frustrated with him as she undoubtedly was with her vice president.

Monika looked at him. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Kenta sighed gruffly. "Mostly. It's you I'm worried about."

"I'm fine," said Monika. "I just . . . Kenta, you know you didn't have to do all that, right?"

Grunting, Kenta shifted his thoughts back to what he had heard earlier. "I'm sorry. I know I kinda listened in on you two back there, but it's just that . . . the stuff I heard him saying and—"

"I understand where you're coming from, Kenta, but still . . ." Monika glanced at him again. "I was just worried that you might've done something even worse."

With a grudging smile, Kenta shrugged. Admittedly, he had avoided getting into fights for so long now that the feeling of almost starting one was rather alien to him, even though he had seriously contemplated decking Takeo earlier just to wipe the smugness off of his face. It wouldn't be the fiercest brawl he participated in, but it would surely be the most satisfying.

"Kenta, listen to me," Monika went on. "I know that Takeo can be a bit hard to handle, and I know that I said things about him to you, but please, don't do anything rash, okay? What you heard earlier, just treat it like one of those days I told you about. They'll pass, and everything will go back to normal."

"I know, I know," Kenta huffed. "I just hate it when he keeps piling up crap on you like that, forcing you and all just because he thinks he knows everything. It already ticked me off when you told me about it, but to actually hear it happening . . ."

Again, he grunted gruffly and scowled at the air. His anger still roiled and stewed within him. It reminded him of a lot of things: a bitter defeat at a basketball game, a failed test at school, a rival embarrassing him in front of the student body. Of course, the ways he dealt with the residual anger from such experiences were simple; you play better in the next game you participate in, and you study harder for the next quiz that comes up. As for rivals . . . well, Kenta always believed that a good scuffle is an excellent way to settle disputes with them.

Monika moved closer to him and wrapped her hand around his, intertwining her fingers with him. The warmth of her touch gave Kenta's anger pause. He looked at her and saw a softer look on her face.

"Let's just forget about it, okay?" she told him. "I'll be fine, and I hope you'll be okay, too. It won't do us any good if we just keep dwelling on it."

Kenta let out a sigh. "Alright, alright, let's not talk about that dolt anymore," he grumbled.

Monika smiled, her hand curling a bit tighter around his. "Good. Now, I don't know about you, but I could really use a latte at the _Connection _right now. Are you interested?"

"Of course," said Kenta, smiling back at her. His anger still hadn't ebbed away fully, but he knew that if there was anyone who can help him calm down, it would always be Monika.

* * *

"Wouldn't have blamed you if you laid him out like what you did with Nagisa back then," said Daisuke, closing his Science book. "He had it coming to him anyway."

"Yeah, damn bastard could've used the old one-two," said Kenta, guffawing.

"I wouldn't call that a good idea," Naoki remarked, looking up from his Social Studies notes. "Monika was right. It could've gotten you suspended. Don't sweat over it too much, Kenta. Even if he didn't show it, I'm sure you ticked him off."

"Well, if I tick him off enough to the point where he starts swinging, I'll be ready," Kenta muttered savagely as he looked down at his own notes.

Spending the early evening yesterday with Monika at the _Cocoa Connection _had done a lot to ease Kenta's temper, though it hadn't been easy. As if to explain to him why Takeo acted in such a way most of the time, Monika had told him about how Takeo was known for being one of the most competitive achievers in the school, driven by a strong desire to rise to the occasion in nearly everything he participates in, from academics to the debate club. For that, Kenta began to understand the snobbish vice president a little—after participating in a lot of sports games since middle school and always acing Physical Education, he understood what it was like to be competitive. But still, that did little to excuse him in Kenta's book, though he kept his musings to himself instead of voicing any more of them to Monika. He did, however, share what he had heard to Naoki and Daisuke today when the three of them made their way to one of the benches next to the open field to study—Akihiro, who was also studying, was at the 3-B classroom with his other friends for today.

"You okay, Daisuke?" asked Kenta; his blonde-haired best friend had been staring at the nearby trees for the past minute now.

Daisuke blinked, looking rather dazed for a second, as if he had just snapped out of a trance. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "Didn't get that much sleep last night, that's all."

"Oh. I can relate to that," said Kenta. "How's Natsuki?"

Daisuke paused before replying. "She's doing pretty well. I wanted to keep her company for today so that we could study together, but she told me that she'll be alright at the classroom with our other friends."

"Well, it's good to hear that she's doing okay," Kenta mused. "It ain't just Monika who's feeling the heat nowadays. A lot of our old buddies are starting to crack, and Naoki told me that even Yuri couldn't avoid the pressure all the time."

Naoki sat up straighter. "She's doing better, though," he stated. "I mean, compared to last week, I can tell that she was totally strained, but she seems to be handling things better now."

"Speaking of Yuri, where is she, by the way?" asked Daisuke.

"She said she wanted to be alone," replied Naoki. "I'm guessing she's at the library right now."

"I see," said Kenta. "Anyway, there's—"

All of a sudden, a bell began to ring. For a moment, the three of them imagined that it was just the first post-lunch bell calling in the students for the rest of their afternoon classes. However, it didn't take long before they realized that they still had around fifteen minutes before lunchtime ends, and thus this was a different bell that they were hearing. Its continuous toll echoed across the open field, causing nearly all the students present there to pause as they listened to it.

Naoki was the first to figure it out. "That's a fire alarm!"

Soon, as if brought out by his words, a loud commotion from inside the school joined the bell's shrill ringing, creating a cacophony that was muffled by the walls of the corridors. There were raised voices and the sounds of people running within, punctuated by a few screams and yells as well. Gathering up their things as quickly as they could, the three of them raced inside the building to see what was happening.

A faint smell of smoke was all around them. Many students were starting to come out of their classrooms, speaking excitedly to one another as they did. Most of the students who were running were coming from the corridors on the opposite side, covering their faces with handkerchiefs or the sleeves of their uniforms; Kenta guessed that the school's east wing was the one on fire.

Joining the domino effect that was happening, the school's PA system came to life as an announcement rang out, instructing students to remain calm, evacuate their classrooms in an orderly fashion, and make their way to the nearest fire exit. Those on the ground floor, like Kenta and the rest, were instructed to proceed to the open field. Having practiced fire drills before, students followed the given instructions and made their way to where they were told to go, though the anxious chatter and the occasional yells didn't die down immediately. Soon, the anxiety peaked when firetrucks arrived to help, giving everyone an idea of just how bad the fire might be; given that they couldn't see the fire from their spot on the open field, there was nothing they could do except wait.

In the end, it took the better part of an hour for everything to settle down. Some of their professors came out and informed them that the fire had started from an exploded fuse box inside one of the east wing's second-floor stockrooms, spreading quickly to adjacent rooms as it buffeted light materials. Then came an announcement that was met with mixed reactions; given that it was Thursday, and given that some classrooms might have been affected by the fire, the school was given the rest of the week off so that the damage could be assessed properly by next week. The students from the east wing had to wait for the confirmation that it was fully safe to go back to their rooms for their belongings. The rest were given permission to take their things and go home.

As students made their way towards the school gates, some went to take a look at the east wing from the school's front and saw some considerable damage indeed; at least three rooms bore a large amount of blackened scorched marks and still had smoke billowing faintly from its windows, though there were no more fires to be seen. Some of the school's officials were standing by talking to some firemen, discussing what had transpired and what must be done. Meanwhile, paramedics assisted some students who had inhaled too much smoke as well, though thankfully there were no students, school personnel or firemen who got hurt any worse. After a few quick texts, the three of them managed to confirm that Natsuki, Yuri and Monika were also fine.

"Will you take a look at _that_?" said Daisuke, nodding towards the east wing as he walked with Kenta and Naoki. "Sure looks pretty bad, huh?"

"Yeah, sure does," said Kenta. "Do you think they'll postpone the exams for this?"

"It depends on how many classes are left without rooms," said Naoki. "But I suppose they can find a way to use the clubrooms as replacement classrooms in the meantime."

"Damn," Kenta muttered. "I thought it'd at least buy us all a few more days off of school."

"Typical."

Kenta flared up instantly as he heard a familiar person speak behind him. He stopped in his tracks, with Daisuke and Naoki following suit. He turned around and saw, to his great irritation, Takeo standing there.

"Look who it is." Kenta laced as much hatred as he could in his voice as he spoke.

Takeo smirked condescendingly. "Unlike you, most of us actually worry about the school's welfare after such an incident," he went on. "Are you actually enjoying what happened simply because you're getting a small vacation off of it?"

"Did I say anything like that?" asked Kenta savagely. He turned to Naoki and Daisuke, as if asking them to answer his question for him. "Did I, guys?"

"Well, knowing your reputation, I suppose that's a given," said Takeo, taking no heed of his words. "It would, however, be appreciated if you kept such disrespectful thoughts to yourself."

"Hey, hey, come on now." Daisuke stepped forward, looking irritated as well. "We're just walking, alright? There's no need for you to butt in on us like that."

"If there's anyone who knows all about 'butting in,' it's your friend here," said Takeo snidely. "He's never one to know his personal boundaries, I'm sure. Laughing and shouting in the corridors, speaking disruptively, he's made quite a reputation for himself, don't you think?"

"Everyone does that once in a while," Naoki offered seriously. "I don't know about you, but it's not exactly a crime, right?"

"What the heck's your problem, wise guy?" Kenta snapped, striding forward suddenly. "You've been poking fun at me ever since I took that survey for your club. If you've got a bone to pick with me, why don't you just tell it straight to my face?"

"Excuse me, but I'm not the only one who's got problems with you," said Takeo. "You honestly think that students adore people like you? From what I've seen, you're disruptive, irritating, and way in over your head. Now, before you accuse me of doing something as insignificant as observing you all the time, bear in mind that your presence is always so troublesome to the point where it is practically unavoidable for many of us to watch you act."

"Alright, that's it. Let's go, man," said Daisuke, putting a hand on Kenta's shoulder. "He's not saying anything worth hearing. Let him run his mouth to someone who cares."

"I agree," Naoki proffered. "I honestly expected more from an upperclassman, but I suppose everyone's licensed to be petty sometimes."

Takeo looked coldly at the two of them. "A word of advice, you two. You will never get far with a wearisome upstart like your friend over here. People like him tend to weigh others down with their antics. It's a shame that Monika never sees that."

Kenta's anger was now rippling like waves being stirred up by a storm. He understood his friends' hesitation—like Monika, they were simply worried about the possible repercussions he could incur from getting into a fight—but the urge to launch his fist at Takeo was almost overwhelming. He took a deep breath to steady his composure. Students passed by them, quite unaware of the confrontation that was happening. Takeo stared straight into his eyes, unflinching. His bravado irked Kenta even further; often times, his opponents would hesitate and even look afraid if they ever engaged in a staredown with him. Memories of his past fights came back to him; strained knuckles, a few bruises, the feel of the cold ground on his back on a bad day, the sight of an opponent lying in the dirt on a good one.

". . . Let's go."

The words were unexpected enough on his part, but his friends' surprise was even greater—no doubt they expected him to charge forward with a punch like all those times in middle school. Meanwhile, Takeo narrowed his eyes, as if he was expecting a sort of trick from him, but Kenta had made his decision. Somehow, at the back of his mind, Monika's sentiments rang clearer than the anger he was feeling. Sure enough, fights felt good and refreshing in their own way, and victories were always sweet, but he remembered some of their aftermaths in the process—a trip to the principal's office, a session with the guidance counselor, and disappointed looks and words from his mother and sister. Above it all, there was Monika voicing her pride at the change he had undergone through the years, and the disappointment she would undoubtedly feel if he wasted all that on another fight. It was a disappointment he could not afford to give her, not when he remembered just how stressed out she already was nowadays.

"Come on, let's go," he repeated, looking at Daisuke and Naoki. With that, he turned and walked away. After a few more seconds of hesitation, his friends followed suit, leaving Takeo to stare after them in silence. Kenta never looked back.

Daisuke spoke up first as they neared the school gates. "You were right, he's a real douche."

Kenta laughed harshly. "Told you. Never thought I'd meet a dolt as bad as him."

"When you turned around, I thought you were going to catch him with a surprise punch," said Naoki, looking relieved that no scuffle actually took place. "I'm glad you didn't—there are a lot of professors around."

"It ain't them that stopped me," Kenta muttered.

The three of them decided to spend the next half-hour inside a nearby convenience store. Given that it was a bit too early to go home, other students followed suit, gathering in nearby diners, stores and other places of interest to lounge around and eat. Some of the students in the convenience store were still a bit tense after the incident, but most were re-discussing what had happened in excited voices.

"Well, it's not like the vacation we're given will give us any time to slack off," said Kenta, downing a gulp of root beer. "We're just gonna end up cramming the days away anyway."

"Looks like Monika's planned outing's gonna have to wait, huh?" said Daisuke. "But then again, that'd make it all the more enjoyable once the exams are done. After that, it'd be a couple more months before the next ones come."

"And before you know it, Christmas break will be upon us," Naoki mused.

"Ah, stop talking about Christmas break this early," Kenta grumbled. "Makes our school workload a lot heavier just thinking about it."

"Amen to that," said Daisuke, raising his soda can in agreement.

"But that makes me wonder . . ." Kenta looked at his friends with a shrewd grin, "what're your plans for the girls on Christmas break?"

"Says the guy who just said talking about Christmas break is bad," said Naoki, shaking his head as he chuckled.

Kenta laughed with him, as did Daisuke. When the mirth died down, he spoke a bit more seriously. "Anyway, I know I don't often say this, but . . . thanks for having my back against the boy wonder earlier, you guys."

"Ah, don't mention it," said Daisuke, clapping his shoulder. "It's just like the good old days, y'know? Besides, that guy was asking for it."

"I agree," said Naoki. "Of course, it's good to stay out of trouble, but if trouble comes looking for us, then we've got your back, come hell or high water."

Kenta smiled gratefully at his friends. At that moment, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted another familiar face entering the convenience store.

"Oy! Akihiro!"

Akihiro looked around as Kenta called out to him. He smiled when he saw the three of them. Daisuke and Naoki raised their hands in greeting at him.

"Hey there," said Akihiro, approaching their table. "Didn't think of running into you guys here."

"We just stopped by for a snack, waiting for a bit before we go home," said Naoki. "Come on, have a seat!"

"I was thinking of the same thing myself," said Akihiro, sitting down on the spare seat next to Daisuke. "What about that fire? Pretty wild, huh?"

"You got that right," said Daisuke. "Never thought I'd see something like that happen in school of all places."

"How's Sayori?" asked Kenta. "Is she alright?"

"She went on home," replied Akihiro. "She's doing fine—I mean, a lot better than last time, that's for sure. Texted me only a few hundred times to check if I was okay during the fire."

Naoki laughed. "Sounds like she was really worried about you."

"You have no idea," said Akihiro, laughing with him.

For Kenta, it was as if his encounter and staredown with Takeo earlier didn't happen. His anger had vanished now, replaced only by a feeling of contentment and joy as he bonded with the three before him. It was during a moment like this that he valued the company of his best friends, almost as much as he treasured being with Monika. The four of them talked, ate and laughed the hour away, ignoring for a while the stress of their upcoming exams and ever-increasing academic workload. After all, these kinds of encounters always helped a student get past the stress and struggles of school life; Kenta knew that this was exactly what Monika meant when she told Takeo that not everything about school life had to involve extracurricular activities and constant studying.

"I know this is a question with a bit of an obvious answer, but . . . who's gonna be cramming tonight?" asked Akihiro.

"Me," said Daisuke immediately.

"And me," Naoki added, raising his hand. "Might ask Yuri out for another study session tomorrow, since we don't have classes. . ."

A light bulb perked up in Kenta's head the moment he heard Naoki's words. "That's it. That's _exactly _it!"

The other three looked at him, a bit confused. "Er, what is?" asked Akihiro.

"Since classes are done for the rest of the week, why don't we ask Monika to schedule the get-together for tomorrow as a study session?" asked Kenta excitedly. "Think about it—a group study is loads better than cramming alone. That way, we can study and have fun at the same time!"

"'Study and have fun at the same time.' Sounds like a promotional ad for kindergartners," Daisuke mused, chuckling. "But hey, it's a good idea."

"Um, I don't mean to be rude, but—" Naoki began.

"Oh, come on, Naoki!" said Kenta. "You said you two will be going! Are you saying you'd rather be alone with Yuri than spend tomorrow with the rest of us?"

"No, no, it's not that!" said Naoki hastily. "It's just that . . . well, studying with a lot of people isn't . . . Ah, I don't know if you'll understand. It's an introvert's issue, you know?"

"Uh, what does that mean?" asked Kenta, scratching his head.

"Well, when it comes to reading and studying, the less people there are, the better it can be for introverts like me and Yuri, you see?" replied Naoki with an apologetic grin.

"Hey, at least you'll be going with people you're familiar with, right?" said Daisuke. "Besides, we can always use some good company, and a bit of fun afterwards won't hurt. I'm sure Natsuki would like that."

"I'm sure Sayori would agree as well," Akihiro added. "Of course, she might end up having fun more instead of studying, but that's alright."

Naoki beseeched them all for a few more moments, letting out a sigh when they kept looking expectantly at him. "Well, if it's with you guys, I'm okay with it," he mused. "Besides, it won't do if I back out on my word now, so count me in."

"That's the spirit!" Kenta cried out happily. "Alright, I'm gonna text Monika later about this. She should be able to give us an answer by tonight."

"Well, you two are our fearless leaders now. Just do what you gotta do," said Daisuke with a mock salute. "Once Monika gives us the good-to-go, I'll text Natsuki."

"Just chat me up about it," said Akihiro. "I might be busy gaming or studying—whichever I feel like doing first—but I'll reply ASAP and give Sayori the heads-up."

"A quick text is all you need for me, Kenta," said Naoki, "and I'll inform Yuri beforehand about it as well."

Kenta clapped his hands together. "Alright, that's a wrap. Mark your calendars, fellas!"

"Dude, that's just tomorrow," Daisuke stated, laughing. "It's not like we're gonna forget."

* * *

Monika didn't reply until around eight o'clock that evening. Kenta had let her be, imagining that she must have had some more schoolwork to deal with, though he also wondered whether or not Takeo had let her be for now regarding the issue he had been discussing with her. Kenta took this time to finish up his own homework and have dinner. Though she had texted him earlier and made sure that he was unaffected by the school fire, his mother barraged him once again at the dinner table with questions about everything that had happened, all while his sister Kanae listened and laughed at his answers and reactions. Kenta was once again beset by annoyance as the questions made it seem like his mother was penning him as the fire's cause.

"For the last time, Mom, an exploded fuse caused the fire, and _not _a student, okay?!" Kenta yelled as he reached the top of the stairs on his way to his room. "You've been watching too many action movies!"

"You mark my words, it was a student that caused that fire, thinking they can skip deadlines and delay exams by committing arson!" his mother yelled back. Kanae's laughter rang clear after her words.

As he entered his room, scoffing and shaking his head at his mother's wild sentiments, Kenta noticed that his cellphone was ringing. He quickly walked over to it and answered as soon as he saw that Monika was the caller.

"Hello? Monika?"

"Hello, Kenta!" replied Monika. "Sorry if I wasn't able to reply quickly to your text. I was just taking care of a few things. Anyway, I think what you said was a great idea!"

"Oh, t-thanks!" said Kenta, swelling with both pride and bashfulness, even if he knew Monika wasn't there to see him react.

"If you guys are okay with it, we can just have everything done at my place," Monika went on. "I mean, it's better than spending some time looking for a good spot in town, right? The public library's always nice, but we can't be too noisy there," she added, laughing.

"If that's fine with you, then sure!" said Kenta.

"Okay, good! So . . . tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow," said Kenta. "I'll tell the guys right away!"

"Sure thing! Anyway, um . . . I have some news, Kenta."

Kenta snapped to attention as he heard Monika's tone change a little. From the way she spoke, he sensed that this was a bit of a serious matter. He knew that she wouldn't mention something like this if she did not want him to know, and given the promise they formed between the two of them last time about hiding nothing from each other, he knew that Monika was simply keeping true to her word.

"What is it? Is everything alright?"

"Well, I don't know, to be honest," said Monika, laughing a little nervously. "I mean, nothing in particular is wrong. I'm just a little nervous. The thing is . . . well, I just received word from my parents."

Kenta paused before speaking. "What about? Are they alright?"

"Oh, yes, they're fine. It's just that . . . they told me that they're gonna be coming home next week."

Somehow, though he did not know why, Kenta felt the landscape change around him at that moment.


	31. Chapter 31 - The Get-Together

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE – THE GET-TOGETHER (SayoHiro)**

Akihiro looked at his reflection in the mirror that his apartment unit had. He was wearing a pair of dark grey jogging pants, a white shirt with a printed logo, and his black jacket over it; for footwear, he had his well-worn black sneakers. Of course, what the day had in store seemed ordinary at best, but in his mind, there was something special about the idea of gathering together with a bunch of new people even if it was just going to be a study session for the better part of the day. Being with Sayori in the process made everything even more special.

When he decided that his attire was adequate enough, he gathered his things and left his apartment unit. As he heard the lock on his door click with a turn of his key, he looked out of one of the nearby windows in the apartment's hallway. It was a quietly beautiful day even as the clouds hid the sun behind them. The crisp, clean autumn air would undoubtedly be chilly, but it was still good weather to be out and about in his opinion. After all, that was better than being indoors for the rest of the week, cramming away or procrastinating by playing video games. As he dwelt on the latter thought, he wondered how Sayori would react, prompting him to smile a little. She had been over the moon when he told her about the study session almost immediately after Kenta had told him that everything would be pushing through. For that, Akihiro was immensely glad—Sayori's improving mood had put him back on track with her during the past days, and while the two of them didn't resume going out on any dates after school just yet, he was still relieved that she was starting to feel much better.

As expected, the cold air stung as soon as Akihiro went outside. The people he passed by on the street wore warmer clothing as well, a sign that winter would soon be upon the city. Many of the trees in the neighborhood were already adorned with crowns of orange and gold, with only a stubborn few still dotted with remnants of green. Fallen foliage drifted around lazily whenever a breeze flew, like rural confetti flittering through an urban landscape. High above, the sky took on a dull grey color, though it did little to mar the city's atmosphere.

Kenta had reminded the others the night before that the study session would be held at Monika's house. Because not all of them knew where it was, he had instructed everyone to converge downtown at the front of the mall, which was the landmark closest to Monika's place. Like Daisuke and Naoki, who were coming over with their friends in tow, Akihiro would be going there with Sayori as soon as he picked her up at her apartment.

To his surprise, Sayori was already waiting for him outside her apartment's gates when he arrived. She was wearing the same brown wool coat that she had worn for their first trip to the _Cocoa Connection _several weeks ago, a white shirt and a pair of black leggings underneath, and her white sneakers. Her school bag swung from her shoulder as she ran towards Akihiro excitedly.

"Hello!" she said, beaming sweetly at him.

"I didn't expect you to be out here this early, Sayori," said Akihiro, grinning back. "I thought you were still fast asleep."

"Hey, I can wake up early if I really want to, okay?" said Sayori, pouting. "Shouldn't you be proud of me for doing that?"

"I am, don't worry," said Akihiro reassuringly. He stepped closer and embraced her snugly. "I missed you, you know?"

In spite of her surprise at his embrace, Sayori hugged him back just as tight. "Even though you just texted me around fifteen minutes ago to check if I fell asleep in the bathroom?" she asked.

Akihiro laughed a little. "Yeah, what with all that happened over the past weeks," he said. When he stepped back, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, I'm doing a lot better now," replied Sayori, "and I'm _really _excited for today! Aren't you?"

"Of course I am," said Akihiro genially, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Let's get going, shall we? The others might already be downtown."

"Okie dokie!" Sayori chirped.

Given that it was only around nine in the morning, downtown was still relatively quiet when they arrived, save for a few cars that passed by on the street and some people going in and out of the buildings on their way to work. Occasionally, a breeze would stir up, meandering freely over the streets and prompting some to bow their heads low to protect their faces from the cold. Along the way, Akihiro and Sayori walked quietly, though Sayori would often puncture the silence between them with snippets of conversation.

"Some of my classmates and I were walking through the corridors when we heard the fuse box explode down the east wing," said Sayori. "We thought someone brought firecrackers in the school and set one off inside a room!"

"We didn't know it was a fire until a student council member dropped by our classroom and told us about it," said Akihiro. "By the time we left the room to go outside, we could already smell the smoke everywhere."

"It's pretty scary, isn't it?" said Sayori worriedly. "It was like something out of an action movie."

"Yeah, it became pretty intense when the firetrucks arrived after the sprinklers didn't do much," Akihiro stated. "That, and when you started bombarding me with texts."

Sayori pouted. "I was just worried about you, okay? And you're saying that like you weren't w-worried about me as well when you replied."

"Alright, you got me," said Akihiro, smiling as he put his arm around her.

Kenta was the only one present at the meeting place when they arrived, sitting at the waiting shed in front of the mall. He was wearing a navy blue jacket with a white basketball jersey underneath, a pair of grey jeans and black sneakers. Like Akihiro, he was carrying a backpack with him. As soon as he caught sight of him and Sayori, he stood up and waved at them.

"Yo!" he cried out. "Glad to see some familiar faces at last. Been waiting here for the past twenty minutes."

"Oh, I'm sorry if we kept you waiting, Kenta!" said Sayori anxiously.

"Nah, that's fine," said Kenta, laughing. "I arrived a bit earlier than I expected—I got too excited and all. Anyway, Monika said she'll be arriving in around ten minutes, and my buddies told me they're on their way as well. They shouldn't take too long now."

"Monika's house isn't far from here, right?" asked Akihiro.

"Yep, just a ten-minute walk or so," replied Kenta, checking his watch. "Anyway, if you guys wanna buy some snacks, there's a convenience store around the corner there."

Sayori looked at Akihiro, blushing as she smiled shyly. Akihiro couldn't help but turn red as well, and with good reason—it was undoubtedly the same convenience store where the two of them had gone to after having some fun during that Saturday afternoon many weeks ago, a day that changed a lot of things in their lives.

"Ah, there's Daisuke and Natsuki now!" said Kenta. He raised his voice and waved his hand like he did earlier. "Hey there!"

Akihiro turned around to see Daisuke walking towards them, waving back cheerily. Next to him was a short girl with pink hair and a pair of twin tails tied with red ribbons, walking along in relative silence; a black face mask covered nearly half of her face, giving her a subdued aura. Even without the name drop, Akihiro knew from his previous conversations with Kenta and his friends that this was Natsuki, Daisuke's good friend and classmate from 3-D. Like the rest of them, Daisuke and Natsuki were wearing clothes that warded off the cold—Daisuke with a thick blue hoodie and a pair of matching jogging pants, Natsuki with a cozy pink jacket and some rose-colored leggings under a frilly pink skirt.

Kenta and Akihiro exchanged greetings with Natsuki, whom they were just meeting for the first time in person. To everyone's surprise, Sayori remembered Natsuki as another one of her former classmates from last year—Akihiro knew that Daisuke was Sayori's classmate from freshman year, like what he and Naoki had told him, but he didn't expect Natsuki to be one as well. Though Natsuki was also surprised at first, it did not take long before she recognized Sayori as well, and she greeted her back with a nod and a few words.

The next ones to arrive were Naoki and his friend Yuri, around five minutes after Daisuke and Natsuki showed up. Naoki was wearing a grey jacket and a pair of black pants, while Yuri was wearing a long-sleeved grey wool sweater and matching black leggings. Kenta teased them a little about how their colors matched, prompting Naoki to explain how it was just a coincidence and Yuri to look away bashfully. Seeing them together, Akihiro couldn't help but imagine how mature the two of them looked, almost as if they were both upperclassmen. He had been classmates with Yuri back in freshman year, and he had rarely seen her since even at school. She still bore that reserved, almost mysterious aura around her, which lent her an elegant sort of poise that matched Naoki's near-gentlemanly air.

Akihiro stood back and watched everyone interact with one another. Kenta, Daisuke and Naoki were speaking to one another, asking about the notes and reviewers that they would be needing for later. Sayori, in her characteristic friendliness, had wasted no time in talking to Natsuki and Yuri in an eager manner, like a little girl who was making friends with other kids on the first day of school. Akihiro smiled to himself, remembering his elementary school days with Sayori and marveling at how little some things had changed about her.

Monika looked apologetic when she arrived. She was clad in a long tan coat with a beige blouse underneath, along with a pair of dark brown pants with some matching boots. Kenta blushed at the sight of her, and Akihiro knew that it was her great beauty that made him do so.

"Hello! I hope I didn't keep you all waiting too long," said Monika. "I just had to take care of a few things at home."

"No, it's alright, Moni!" Sayori chirped. "We haven't been here for too long—I mean, Kenta might have been, but . . ."

"Nah, that's fine, it wasn't that big of a deal," said Kenta, laughing a little.

After smiling at Kenta, Monika then turned her gaze upon Natsuki and Yuri. "So you two are Daisuke's and Naoki's friends, hmm? I'm glad to finally meet you both," she told them cordially. "I'm—"

"Monika Steinbeck, the best in our year," said Natsuki suddenly. "Sorry, I d-didn't mean to be rude. It's just that everyone at school knows who you are, right? Anyway, I don't know if Daisuke's told you yet, but I'm Natsuki Fujisawa, from 3-D."

"And I'm Yuri Hoshino, from 3-C," said Yuri nervously. "It's a pleasure to finally m-make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure's all mine," said Monika, smiling. "I've only heard about you two from what Kenta says about Naoki and Daisuke here. I hope we can all get to know each other better from now on!"

"I h-hope so, too," said Yuri, smiling in spite of her obvious anxiousness.

"Yeah, same," Natsuki muttered.

"Don't worry about that," said Sayori suddenly. "If I know Monika, she's a master at making people get along well with each other. It's one of the reasons why she's president of the debate club, after all!"

Akihiro smiled at Sayori's words, as did the others. Meanwhile, Monika laughed a little embarrassedly. "T-Thank you, Sayori."

At that, Kenta clapped his hands. "So! Are we gonna get going or what?"

"You seem awfully excited for this study session," said Naoki with an amused grin.

"Well, this _was _his plan, after all," said Daisuke.

"_And _Monika's, don't forget!" Kenta added.

"Rescheduling it today was mostly your plan, Kenta," Monika told him genially. "Anyway, if you want, we can all get going now. Just follow my lead!"

* * *

Akihiro took the time to observe more as they all walked to Monika's house. He saw that during the few times that she spoke up to join the conversation, particularly with Daisuke's help, Natsuki tended to be the serious and direct one, though that wasn't to say that she was abrasive or unfriendly. Akihiro imagined that this was simply how she acted around new people, and from what he had heard from Daisuke before, she was the type that would warm up to others after spending more time with them. Admittedly, had she not been one of Sayori's previous classmates, Akihiro would have imagined that she was from a lower year. On the other hand, Yuri was an introvert, as she always had been even back when she was his classmate during freshman year. It was a bit of a surprise, however, that she seemed keen on bonding with the others even in her timidly quiet way, and he guessed that she had Naoki to thank for that change.

As previously discussed, the walk was a relatively short one, and when they arrived, Monika's house wowed everyone else except Kenta, who had seen the place before on a previous visit. It was a contemporary architectural beauty that outshone every neighboring house in the vicinity, and they observed everything with wonder, from the house's sophisticated making to the front garden, which possessed a splendor that was only augmented by the autumn season as the trees took on hues of orange and red that mingled with the flowers around them. As he walked with the rest of the gang, Akihiro remembered what Sayori had told him in conversations past about Monika's parents, who worked in other prefectures as general contractors. It seemed only natural that people like them, who were familiar with architecture and undoubtedly earned a lot from it, would have an abode as handsomely urbane as this.

Naturally, the interior was as breathtaking as the house's façade was. Akihiro was quickly reminded of the various modern houses that he had seen in house-building and life simulation games as he stared around the place. Monika admitted to giving the house's helpers the day off so that the eight of them could have the house all to themselves for the entirety of their study session and beyond. Given how spacious the house was, Akihiro mused that it was still more than enough even for eight students and some household helpers to lounge in.

"I think I've seen the inside of a house like this one only on T.V. shows," Sayori muttered in childlike wonder. "It's like a mansion in here, Moni!"

"The credit for that goes to my parents," said Monika, giggling. She beckoned to them with a wave of her arm. "Come on, sit down! Make yourselves comfortable."

"Thanks," said Daisuke, plopping down on one of the soft lounge chairs in the house's main living room as he continued observing everything. "Anyway, was Kenta on his best behavior when he first visited here?"

Monika laughed some more as she glanced at Kenta, who frowned at Daisuke. "Definitely," she replied.

"Thank you for inviting us in your home," Yuri muttered politely as she sat down next to Naoki on a nearby couch. "I hope w-we won't be an inconvenience for you."

"Don't worry, it's all perfectly fine," said Monika. "Anyway, what do you guys want to study first?"

"Did the exam schedule come out yet?" asked Naoki.

"As a matter of fact, yes," replied Monika. She reached for a notebook from her bag and leafed through its pages, stopping at a certain page. "The class representatives got them early from Professor Akamatsu earlier this week. Apparently, the first day of exams will be for Mathematics, Social Studies, English and Art."

"Math on the first day?" groaned Kenta. "I dunno if that's worse than Math on the last day!"

"I think we can all agree that Math is bad on _any _day," said Akihiro jokingly.

"That's wisdom right there," said Daisuke with a laugh. Next to him, even Natsuki spared a short giggle.

"Well, I've always gone by the principle that taking care of the hardest obstacle first should be one's top priority," Naoki offered. "The sooner that is taken care of, the better. Let's try that first."

"I suppose that's a good idea indeed," said Yuri with a smile.

"Alright, alright," Kenta grimaced. "At least the other ones won't be too tough after this."

When everyone had settled down, the eight of them began to bunker down. They took out their Math books, scientific calculators and some extra paper to use for scribbled equations and solutions. Monika helped them clear out the table that stood in the middle of the living room's seats so that they could have a surface on which to place their notes. On the couch, Yuri, Naoki, Sayori and Akihiro were next to each other. Natsuki and Daisuke sat on separate chairs on one side, while Kenta and Monika took another.

It soon became obvious as to how little liked Mathematics was as the study session progressed. Apart from Monika and Naoki, who understood Mathematics more or less, everyone began to show signs of stress as they wrote down numbers and formulated solvable equations that would undoubtedly appear in their exams. Kenta grumbled, Daisuke grimaced, and Natsuki occasionally muttered under her breath as they wrote down solutions for the equations. Sayori had a frown of deep concentration on her face as she tapped her pencil on her notebook; Akihiro smiled at how cute she looked, but he tried to avoid looking at her for too long, knowing that he shouldn't get too distracted. As happy as he was to be with everyone else right now, there were still a lot of things to get over with. Tackling Mathematics was like grinding experience and items for a particularly nasty boss fight—necessary but tedious, especially when the numbers start looking the same. Twenty minutes in, they began comparing answers on some of the problems they chose to tackle, and the chorus that followed involving varying answers to a single problem elicited both laughs and sighs of exasperation from all of them.

By eleven o'clock, even Monika had had enough of Mathematics, and they all decided that it was time for a well-deserved break so that they can plan where and what to eat for lunch. Monika told them that there was some food in the fridge that she would be more than willing to prepare for everyone, but Kenta was quick to suggest that they should order some takeout instead so as not to trouble Monika any further. As they debated, Natsuki candidly and suddenly suggested that they can order some takeout from an eatery that Daisuke's family ran. Daisuke was initially caught off guard by the suggestion—and Akihiro could swear that he caught a glimpse of a smirk behind Natsuki's face mask that crinkled the corners of her eyes as she stated her proposition—though he soon relented when everyone agreed that it was a good idea. And so, Daisuke texted his mother in advance and told them that they would be ordering some takeout once he had explained the diner's menu in detail to them. When everything was settled, they split the bill between the eight of them, calculating how much each of them would be paying. Kenta, Naoki and Akihiro volunteered to come along and help Daisuke pick up the takeout.

"Just so you guys know, the diner's gonna be a fifteen minute walk from here," said Daisuke, "so it might take a while for us to get back."

"Don't worry, the girls and I will be going out along with you as well," said Monika. "We'll go back downtown to buy some drinks and snacks for later."

"Looks like we should've bought some before we went here," said Natsuki, "to save time and all."

"Well, I suppose it c-can't be helped," said Yuri. "If we ever have another study session like this, I'll make sure t-to bring something we can drink then."

"Ooh, I like the sound of that, Yuri!" Sayori chimed in.

"Alright, the boys and I are gonna be leaving first," said Kenta readily. "We'll just text you guys when we're on the way back!"

"Same here," said Monika, smiling.

* * *

Sayori hummed happily as she traipsed through the aisles of the convenience store that Monika had led them in, looking for some good snacks. Thus far, she was enjoying the day greatly with Akihiro, Monika, Kenta and everyone else. Though she had anticipated going out on a leisurely outing with them like what Monika had originally intended, a study session was just as fine, and it was refreshing to see how enjoyable it was even if they were technically cramming for the next couple of weeks at school. It had been a pleasant surprise as well that she was reunited with three of her former classmates; though she had not bonded with them in the same way that she was friends with Monika or Akihiro, Sayori knew that there was always plenty of time to get to know them all over again.

Some ways down the aisles, Natsuki was looking silently at some chips and cookies on the shelves. She glanced sideways as Sayori approached; even though she looked rather grouchy thanks to her face mask, Sayori wasn't deterred in talking to her.

"Hello! Have you picked something yet?" she asked her.

"Um, no, n-not yet," said Natsuki tentatively. "I was thinking of choosing between some strawberry and blueberry pocky. . ."

"Ooh! If you ask me, strawberry's always a safe choice," Sayori stated, "and it matches your hair as well!"

Natsuki looked at her again. "Well, strawberry _is _one of my favorites," she admitted. "But . . . ah, I'm just gonna keep looking. How about you? Are you done picking your snacks?"

Looking at the shelves, Sayori sighed. "Not really. I haven't decided on what snack I'd want for later, and I also wanna pick something for Akihiro as well."

Natsuki grunted. "Your boyfriend, huh?" she muttered.

Sayori blushed slightly. "Did he tell you guys t-that?"

"It wasn't that hard to guess," Natsuki said, "from the way you two talk and all. . ."

"Ah, well, you're right about that," said Sayori with a short giggle. "How about Daisuke? Pardon me for asking, but . . . he's your boyfriend, right?"

Natsuki shifted where she stood, sighing. "You'd better check on Monika and . . . Yuri, is that her name? Maybe they're done by now."

"Oh, um . . . okay then!" Sayori's smile faded somewhat as she wondered why Natsuki didn't answer her question. Still, it couldn't be helped, especially given how stern the pink-haired girl seemed to be from her perspective.

Yuri was staring thoughtfully at some drinks in the store's corner when she found her. During the past couple of hours, Sayori had deduced quickly that Yuri was the most reserved out of everyone, always shy and soft-spoken and easily flustered whenever someone talks to her. Sayori could easily tell that she was not used to crowds and groups, but it made her happy that Yuri had decided to come along with them, and that she seemed to be doing well and was trying her best to socialize even if she was so quiet most of the time.

"Hey there, Yuri!" said Sayori in greeting.

Yuri jerked a little at the sound of her voice. She smiled a little as she glanced at Sayori. "Hello. Do you need something?"

"What? No, I was just checking on you!" said Sayori. "Are you doing okay?"

"Ah, yes, I'm alright, t-thank you for asking," replied Yuri. "Has Monika picked some beverages yet? If you want, I can get some right now."

"I think she hasn't yet," said Sayori, glancing around the store for Monika. "Do you need some help picking?"

"I think I can manage," Yuri muttered. Almost instantly, she changed tack and looked anxiously at Sayori. "Ah, it's n-not that I don't want you to help! I'm sorry, I felt like I've spoken out of t-turn there!"

Sayori laughed. "No, it's okay, it didn't feel anything like that, Yuri," she said reassuringly. "I mean, I haven't picked any snacks out just yet, and I just wanted to make myself useful in the meantime."

"Oh, I see," said Yuri, looking slightly relieved but still rather anxious. "If y-you really want to, then it's fine with me."

The two of them picked out beverages in relative silence, though Sayori would occasionally ask Yuri to choose between two drinks. Even as she tried her best to help her pick, Yuri soon admitted that she didn't put too much stock in such pick-me-ups after having grown used to drinking mostly tea and water, though she also mentioned that she wanted to pick a drink that Naoki would like. Sayori smiled at this admission as it made her realize that she and Yuri were thinking along the same lines regarding their boyfriends, though when she asked Yuri about Naoki, the former avoided the question like Natsuki did.

When Monika caught up to them, she was carrying a small basket with two packs of cookies and some potato chips—four small bags and a large one, all with different flavors. "I was just about to go and get some drinks," she said as she walked towards them. "Glad to see that you're taking care of them already."

"Oh, you're done picking out snacks? Cool!" Sayori walked over and looked at the big potato chip bag in Monika's basket. "Ooh, you picked cheese!"

"Even us vegetarians can eat and love cheese," said Monika, laughing. "What drinks did you pick?"

"I got you some of the tomato juice you like," said Sayori, "and some root beer for Akihiro—that's his favorite! Yuri got some mineral water instead, but she got some iced coffee for Naoki. As for the others, I didn't know what they'd like, so we got them a mix of juice and soda instead."

"Thanks for that, Sayori," said Monika. She looked over at Yuri and asked, "Are you sure you'll be fine with just mineral water, Yuri?"

"Y-Yes," replied Yuri, smiling. "I'm used to drinking mostly tea, and not juice or soda drinks."

"Oh, really?" Monika smiled back. "I enjoy a cup of tea every now and then as well."

At that moment, Natsuki appeared behind Monika, holding two small boxes of strawberry pocky. "Hey there," she said. "Are you guys done?"

"Yep!" replied Sayori. "Ooh, you went with my suggestion, I see," she added, eyeing the pocky.

Natsuki huffed. "Yeah, safe choice and all. So are we gonna be splitting the bill for all this between us eight later?"

"No, I've got it covered!" said Monika. "You don't have to worry about that."

"Eh?! You're gonna pay for all this, Monika?!" Sayori cried out. Natsuki raised her eyebrows, while Yuri looked worried.

"W-Wouldn't that be too much for you, Monika?" she asked.

"Nope, it's okay with me," replied Monika heartily. "We're already splitting the bill on the takeout, so let me handle the snacks. It's the least I can do as the host."

"I'm guessing you don't do this often," Natsuki stated. "If you did, you'd be running out of money all the time."

Monika laughed. "Well, my allowance tends to be pretty big for just one girl, so I don't mind sharing it. Anyway, if you guys have any other snacks that you want to buy, just go ahead and put it in the basket!"

Sayori frowned. "Are you sure about this, Moni? You're starting to sound like Akihiro."

"And Daisuke," Natsuki added.

"Yes. I'm telling you, I don't mind," said Monika, giggling again. "Are you guys sure you won't be picking anything else? The boys should be on their way back by now, so we should be going back soon, too."

* * *

The boys arrived around ten minutes after they did, laughing and talking as they entered through the front door. At this, everyone moved to the kitchen and dining area, where the girls had set up the table in preparation with plates and utensils. The boys then took the takeout from the paper bags that they had carried them in and distributed each food item among them; being a vegetarian, Monika had ordered some vegetable curry for herself, while Sayori, Akihiro and Kenta had each ordered some hearty katsudon; Yuri had gone for a more modest choice with tamagodon, or scrambled egg on top of rice with some donburi sauce, while Naoki went for a more filling pick with some oyakodon; lastly, Natsuki and Daisuke both picked chicken teriyaki, which was an admitted favorite of the former.

Sayori ate in satisfied silence next to Akihiro, who was also enjoying his katsudon greatly. Monika sat close to Kenta, not minding the occasional candid remark or joke that he would give as everyone ate. Naoki and Yuri were side by side, being the quietest out of all of them and preferring to eat without speaking too much. The only ones missing at the table were Natsuki and Daisuke; Natsuki had requested that she would eat at the living room area instead—Sayori guessed that she was rather shy about taking off her face mask in front of them—while Daisuke went to keep her company.

"I don't know about you guys, but this is really good food," said Monika as she chewed on another spoonful of vegetable curry. "It blows my mind that I haven't heard of that eatery before—if I had, I wouldn't mind eating there weekly!"

"It is rather scrumptious, yes," said Yuri. "Quite different from how most donburi is cooked."

Kenta laughed. "You hear that, Daisuke?" he called out in the direction of the living room. "Your family eatery just got new customers!"

"Sign me up as well for that," Akihiro added. "This might be the best katsudon I've ever tasted."

From the living room, Daisuke laughed. "My mom's the one who does the cooking, not me," he replied back. "But I'll tell her about all your feedback, thanks!"

Sayori smiled to herself as she watched this dynamic unfold between everyone. What made her feel even happier about it all was the fact that Akihiro was truly enjoying the company of Monika, Kenta and the others. After all, she did promise herself that she would tag along on Monika's invitation for Akihiro in order to make him feel happier and less worried about her, and somehow, things had turned out to be even better than she had expected. Because of all this, Akihiro had found some new friends that he could be around with, friends that he could talk to during the times when she could not.

_Friends that he could rely on to keep him happy, friends that can help him whenever he needs it._

_Friends who did not have the same problems she did, and thus will not weigh him down during rough days._

Sayori stopped chewing her food for a moment as she dwelt on the thoughts. Again, she looked around at the table, watching the fun that they were all having. _This is what Akihiro needs. This is what he deserves_. Of course, if Monika could read her thoughts, she would be quick to remind her that she deserved all of this as much as Akihiro did, but Sayori didn't mind. As long as Akihiro was happy, she was also happy, and there would be no voices that would start bugging her, no rainclouds to blot out the sun.

After lunch, all of them cleaned up and rested for a quarter of an hour more before resuming their study session. It was with great relief that they stowed away their Mathematics paraphernalia and brought out what they would need for Social Studies, agreeing that while the latter was no pushover subject with all the different things they needed to memorize, it was still an easier subject compared to Math.

Sayori felt refreshed as she sat back down in the living room with the others, knowing that a full stomach can do wonders for studying or anything else. Everyone seemed to feel so, judging by how quickly they went down to business as soon as they had settled down. For 3-A and 3-B—classes where Sayori, Monika and Akihiro were—their Social Studies review was a two-pronged advantage as it would also help them prepare for an upcoming graded recitation for their Social Studies classes next week, though the question is still up in the air about whether or not classes would resume while part of the school remains under repair after the fire. To get their review going, the eight of them posited questions at one another, answering whenever they knew the answers and asking others to clarify what they didn't fully remember. In this regard, Monika and Naoki—and Yuri whenever she found her voice—were the ones who led the discussion, while everyone else followed their lead, jotted down notes, and leafed through the pages of their Social Studies books.

It was around two-thirty in the afternoon when everyone decided that it would be a good time for a break. By then, they had already tackled nearly half of their Social Studies workload, and Sayori remarked that it was indeed a good time to eat some snacks. Her proposition was met with a mixture of assent and amusement—with Akihiro leaning towards the latter—though she was quick to insist that snacks were always important as both a reward for their efforts and as fuel for the remaining hours of study work they had left. To back her up, Monika echoed her sentiments and went to the kitchen to prepare some of the drinks they had bought earlier.

Soon, everyone began to feel understandably lazy—Fridays tended to have such an effect on students, and this Friday afternoon was no different. With the cold air outside and the quiescence that prevailed on the streets in front of Monika's house, it was a perfect time to relax and unwind.

"By the way, I just wanted to ask something, Monika," said Naoki as they ate. "Is it true that the debate club is one of the biggest clubs in the school? I think you've got more than thirty members, right?"

"Thirty-six, to be exact," replied Monika. "We'll be losing eight members when the seniors graduate by the end of the school year, but there are still a lot left."

"That's more than most clubs combined," Natsuki mused. "Then again, that's because you guys are competing in other schools, if I'm not mistaken."

"Pretty much," said Monika. "It's the same as the Math and Science clubs, and the sports clubs as well."

"I can't imagine how many smart people you have in your club, Moni," said Sayori in wonder. "Everyone who joins has to be as smart as you and the other officers, right?"

Monika smiled modestly. "Not all the time, but we do screen prospective members with interviews and help them train before they join us in the interschool competitions," she said. "To get in, the club only requires that your general average meets the required number—it's a standard that the professors who helped facilitate the debate club set up."

"Well, that's understandable," said Yuri suddenly. "I've heard that academic clubs that compete across schools do tend to have stricter rules and standards compared to others."

"How about those who fail?" Natsuki inquired. "What happens to them?"

"Well, it doesn't mean that failing to join the club once is equal to never being able to join the club ever again," replied Monika, waving a potato chip idly as she spoke. "If a student manages to improve his or her credentials, he or she is given a second chance, or even a third."

"With the number of upper-tier students that join clubs like that," said Daisuke, "I'm guessing there are some benefits that they get out of it. I mean, most of the time, school clubs are extracurricular, and there aren't a lot who are interested enough to join except to do something new outside the classroom."

"Well, you're right in that regard," Monika acknowledged. "Often times, students who are a major part of academic clubs that compete across schools will be able to add that to their credentials for college. Adds to a student's reputation and credibility, you know? Makes it easier to enroll in a certain university. On a lesser note, there's also the idea that it helps prepare them for a certain career path that they might wish to take in the future—public speaking, for instance."

Kenta grunted. "Maybe that's why your good ol' vice president takes all this seriously," he muttered.

Monika smiled soothingly at him. "Yes, but it's not just him," she went on. "I'm also . . . I mean, well, not just me, but my parents, too . . . they think it's a good chance for me to add more to my high school records in preparation for college."

At that, she coughed a little and changed tack. "Anyway, how about you guys? Are you in any clubs?"

The others looked at each other. "Er, not really," said Kenta first. "I was supposed to join some sports club back in freshman year, but I had to take care of my grades first. After that, it just sort of slipped through my mind, I guess."

"If there's an anime club, I'd definitely sign up with Natsuki over here," said Daisuke jokingly. Natsuki elbowed his side in response.

"I wanted to join the homeroom club for cooking, but . . . I don't know how to cook," said Sayori sadly.

Akihiro looked around at her. "Hey, don't say that! Remember that time we cooked at my place?"

"Oh, what's this now?" Natsuki chimed in, raising her eyebrows. "Cooking at each other's places, hmm?"

"I-It's just cooking, okay?" said Akihiro quickly, blushing as Monika, Kenta and Natsuki glanced at him with knowing looks in their eyes.

"But that was with your help, Akihiro," Sayori shot back, pouting and blushing as well as she remembered that blissful day. "I wouldn't be able to do that alone. I almost burned down my apartment trying to, remember?"

"How about you, Akihiro?" asked Monika amid a scattered chorus of laughs and chuckles. "Are there any clubs that you're part of now?"

"Well, if you count online forums about games, yes," replied Akihiro, laughing. "But honestly, I didn't quite know which club I'd fit into, so I ended up with none."

"Are you part of other clubs too, Monika?" Naoki inquired as he finished his bottle of iced coffee.

Monika shook her head. "It's been just the debate club for me. Even if I wanted to join other clubs, running the debate club already takes a bit of work, so I don't have enough time to juggle between other clubs."

"How about forming your own club? Did you ever try that, Moni?" asked Sayori.

"What? I didn't know you can do that," said Natsuki.

"Yeah, I think if you ask nicely enough, the teachers will let you start a new club," Kenta offered. "Well, asking nicely _and _promising that the club isn't up to any cheeky stuff."

"You're right in that regard, Kenta," said Monika, setting down her now-empty bag of potato chips, "That's part of the guidelines that you'll need to follow if you want to form your own club. Even then, it's not that easy, because you'll have to try really hard to get in a lot of members that are actually interested in what the club has to offer and not just in it for leisure. Usually, people will be inclined to join to try things out, but it's either they back out once there's work to be done, or they won't be diligent enough to attend meetings and events. To cap it all off, if you fail to get more than four official members within the time you're given, your club won't push through."

"It does sound rough, huh?" Daisuke remarked. "I guess that's why some clubs phase out after a couple of months."

"Or why some clubs never manage to form in the first place," said Naoki.

"Still, it sounds rather nice to have your own club and all, don't you think?" said Kenta. "Like, imagine being in your own official school club with your buddies, using free periods to plan events and stuff."

"It does sound rather nice," said Monika, smiling. "The school festivals will definitely be a lot of fun then."

"But the club still has to be school-related, or else it won't fly," said Natsuki. "Having fun with friends in a club is great and all, but I doubt the teachers will let you make a club just so you can mess around some more."

Daisuke laughed. "I guess an anime club is out of the question."

The study session finally ended at around four-thirty in the afternoon, but the general feeling of comfort and joy that they shared in being in each other's company did not end there. Long after they had stowed away their books and notes—Art had been skipped as everyone agreed that it was easier compared to the rest of the first subjects—they kept talking about anything and everything they could discuss, even if it meant revisiting some topics they had just conversed about earlier. Indeed, even Natsuki and Yuri, who had been the quietest out of everyone, appeared to have enjoyed the day they had just spent with everyone else. Yuri seemed to be more eager than Natsuki for another get-together, even as she admitted so in her characteristically timorous manner, though Natsuki was quick to say her piece as well and shut down what the others might have been thinking of her.

"I'll have to be honest with you guys," she said with a sigh. "I never really got invited out like this before, being with a group of people and all that, but I enjoyed what happened today. No, really, I did!" she added insistently as Daisuke shot her a smirk. "I hope that didn't make it seem like I might be a party-pooper or something just because I was quiet and serious."

"Don't worry, Natsuki, we understand," said Monika kindly. "Being with a new bunch of people isn't always a breeze from the get-go for others, but I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed being here. To be honest, I was also worried about getting you all here together in the first place, because it might have been a bit odd and all, especially since not everyone knows each other that well."

"Nah, that's alright," said Daisuke, waving his hand. "If Natsuki here says that she had fun, you know it was a good idea alright."

The others laughed as Natsuki reached out to punch Daisuke's arm resentfully. "So, when is the next get-together gonna be?" asked Sayori with excitement.

"We'll leave that to Kenta and Monika," said Daisuke, rubbing the spot on his arm where Natsuki's fist had landed. "They were the ones who made this happen, after all."

There was a general murmur of assent at his words. "The week after the exams sounds nice," said Monika in response. "It'll be a good time to unwind and spend time together again, this time without any cramming. That was the original plan, right, Kenta?"

"Yep," said Kenta. "So . . . I guess that settles it. Mark your calendars, people!"

"I will look forward to that day," said Yuri amiably.

Natsuki sighed. "Alright, count me in."

"Wherever our fearless leaders go, we will follow," said Daisuke, thumping his fist on his chest a-la Kenta. "Isn't that right, boys?"

"Sure is," said Akihiro, giving a thumbs-up. Naoki nodded and smiled as well.

"I can't wait!" said Sayori happily. As she imagined what the days after the exams had in store, she felt euphoric at the bond that was undoubtedly starting to form between everyone.

* * *

The day had only grown colder by the time everyone prepared to go home and say goodbye to Monika. The sun was already starting to turn orange—a signal for the city to begin preparing for the evening as its lights would start turning on while pedestrians and vehicles alike would begin to meander through the streets in greater numbers.

After leaving Monika's house, everyone went in different directions—Naoki going east with Yuri, Daisuke trudging west with Natsuki, and Kenta walking alone to the south. Sayori and Akihiro kept him company for the meantime as the three of them were headed in the same direction, but they had to say goodbye to him soon enough they reached the mall. From there, Kenta went off to the direction of his house, while Sayori and Akihiro headed back to their apartments.

"Did you have fun?" asked Sayori, wrapping her arm around Akihiro's.

"You have no idea," said Akihiro in reply, smiling. "Everyone just felt comfortable around each other, and you . . . you were smiling and laughing all the time. That made me really happy, too. It showed me how much of a good time you were having."

Sayori smiled back. "Same with you. But it kinda made me sad that we all had to go home after everything was done. If you ask me, I didn't want the day to end, you know?"

"Hey, if I know Monika and Kenta, there'll be future gatherings like that, so don't worry about them, okay?" said Akihiro in a comforting tone. "Besides, you saw how everyone was already excited for the next one—Monika and Kenta practically greenlit it in five seconds. Just a couple more weeks and we'll all be together again, this time with no more studying to interrupt the fun."

"Even if we'll be studying, it'd still be a lot of fun for me," said Sayori, sighing. "I wish the exams are already over."

"They'll soon be," said Akihiro, holding her hand reassuringly.

The sun was already beginning to set when the two of them approached the neighborhood where their apartments were. After the brief discussion that they just had, both of them had fallen silent, opting instead to bask in each other's warmth as they snuggled closer together to ward off the onset of the evening's chill. Behind them, downtown was starting to stir from its daytime lull.

As he stared at the shadows of the setting sun around them, Akihiro did feel sorry as well that this day had to end. But for the most part, Sayori's smiling face made it all worthwhile.


	32. Chapter 32 - A Visit

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO – A VISIT (NatSuke)**

"What? _Sick_?" asked Natsuki.

"Yeah, he texted us during third period. Fever and all."

The moment she had arrived at school and saw that Daisuke's seat was still vacant, Natsuki knew that there was something up. Daisuke always arrived at school first, ready to greet her with a smile and a question about how she was doing almost as soon as she entered their classroom. For the first ten minutes before class began, Natsuki wondered whether he was running late—a definite first for Daisuke if ever—but when he wasn't present for the entirety of the first period, she mused that he would be absent for today. As to why he couldn't make it to school, Natsuki decided to take the initiative of asking around at lunchtime. Had she not come along on the get-together that Monika Steinbeck of 3-A had planned and hung out with Daisuke's friends, Natsuki would have balked at the thought of approaching them to ask about him. Luckily, she managed to run into Kenta Yamaguchi in the school hallway as he was making his way to the cafeteria.

"No wonder I didn't know," said Natsuki. "I left my phone at home."

"Ah, there you go," said Kenta. "Well, I'm sure Daisuke's gonna be back tomorrow or Wednesday at most. He tends to bounce back quickly from getting sick."

"Yeah, I hope so. . ." Natsuki muttered.

Kenta smiled. "Are you worried about him?"

Natsuki blushed, glaring up at Kenta's visage peevishly. It didn't help that he practically towered over her. "That's n-not what I mean, okay?!" she hissed.

"Hey, don't sweat it, alright?" said Kenta, laughing. "It's just nice to see that you're looking out for my buddy. And I dunno if it's just me, but there are times when he seems worried about you too, you know?"

That softened Natsuki's irritation, though it also made her turn even redder. Thankfully, her face mask prevented Kenta from seeing how red her cheeks were—and everything else she kept covered behind it.

"I bet he is. . ." she murmured.

The rest of the day seemed to move by ever so slowly without Daisuke around. Natsuki always carried with her a sandwich to eat in case she would be having lunch alone, but it always made her miss his company sorely. Today, that feeling of longing was mixed with worry as she imagined Daisuke lying sick in bed. Of course, it could be less bad than what she was thinking about, but that didn't lessen the concern she felt, concern borne from the same worry and care that Daisuke always showed her. Natsuki sighed, knowing that no matter what she said in front of people like she did with Kenta earlier, she could never deny that she was indeed always thinking about him. Since the day she bared her face in front of him to show her father's handiwork, Natsuki felt like she had opened up a good part of her heart to him as well. From that moment on, Daisuke had become so protective of her that he always did his best to keep her company, even if it meant walking her to the street corner where she headed for home. Natsuki wondered why he didn't ask her anything else about her father or her home situation, but she was grateful for his company and care all the same.

Today, she knew that he was the one in need of company and care this time.

As soon as the dismissal bell rang, Natsuki quickly stored away her things and left the school, going for the convenience store where Daisuke occasionally took her for afternoon snacking. There, she used her remaining allowance for the day to buy Daisuke some of his favorite snacks—barbeque-flavored potato chips and a couple of caramel bars. Her heart pounded as she knew the risk she was taking, knowing that her father might come home later today with her not around, but it was a risk she was willing to take right now. Without her phone, she had no way of finding out how Daisuke was doing, so her best bet was a visit to his home.

Obviously, there was also the issue of arriving unannounced to the Matsuda household. Mrs. Matsuda and Hiroko were two of the nicest people Natsuki had ever met, but she wondered how they would react to him suddenly showing up at their place to see Daisuke. After all, the idea of a girl showing up at her male friend's house for a visit of her own initiative seemed to be rather too forward, but then again, during the small birthday dinner they had for Mrs. Matsuda, she was told that she could come around at any time. Natsuki decided to dwell on that thought in order to keep her courage up.

Clutching her purchases, Natsuki exited the convenience store and began the ten-minute walk towards the _Matsuda Eatery_. From there, she would take another ten minutes to walk back home after her visit. Natsuki made a mental note to remember what time she would be going home so that she would be there before her father showed up. He had calmed down enough since the last incident she had with him, but Natsuki knew that it wouldn't take much to set him off again. As she walked, she imagined what happened that day—how the walls of the house always seemed so thin as her father's fist banged on them, how her brain sagged with the hurtful words he threw her way, and how his hands always felt heavy with rage whenever they made contact with her face.

Natsuki wiped the tears that formed on her eyes before they could trickle down her face. Crying wouldn't do, not when she was about to see Daisuke. She decided to focus her mind on a more positive thought—namely, the get-together that she had gone to last week.

For the most part, Natsuki was still marveling at how much chemistry everyone had in the group, thanks in no small part to Monika and Kenta. Together, they worked so well as impromptu leaders that they practically managed to make everyone feel like a true part of the group. Even the purple-haired silent beauty Yuri Hoshino, whose near-formal politeness and quiet presence struck Natsuki as odd, managed to join in on whatever they had talked about on certain occasions during that day, even if she did so on a limited basis. Of course, there was also her sophomore classmate Sayori Matsuzaki, whose childlike friendliness always seemed to brighten the mood; Naoki Nakajima, whose intellect and cordiality helped him keep up with both the study session and the conversations; and resident gamer Akihiro Hasegawa, whose candid remarks and easygoing topics were always worth hearing. Natsuki had initially tried to keep quiet and go with their flow without drawing too much attention, as groups of new people didn't always have an appeal to her, but she was surprised that she managed to feel more comfortable around them than she had expected at first. Unsurprisingly, Daisuke played a major part in helping her feel so, as he always did.

There were still some people eating at the diner when she arrived. No one paid Natsuki much attention as she entered. Glancing at the counter, she saw a teenage girl arranging some things next to the cash register, while a boy of the same age was going around scrubbing vacant tables clean with a cloth. Natsuki guessed that they were the ones who helped Mrs. Matsuda man the diner daily, given that Hiroko had work and Daisuke was often at school.

Natsuki approached the counter, prompting the girl to look up. "Hello! Can I get you anything?" she asked politely.

"Um, I'm here for Mrs. Matsuda," said Natsuki in reply. "Is she around?"

"She's in the kitchen," the girl replied. "And you are . . . ?"

"Please tell her it's Natsuki Fujisawa. Her son's classmate."

"Ah, I see. Hold on a sec, I'll go call her."

"Thank you."

When the girl returned from the kitchen, Mrs. Matsuda was right behind her, looking rather excited as she wiped her hands on her apron. "Natsuki! What a pleasant surprise!" she exclaimed as she went outside the counter to meet her.

Natsuki inclined her head courteously. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Matsuda. I hope y-you're doing well?"

"Oh, I'm doing just fine, my dear," said Mrs. Matsuda. "What brings you here? Oh, wait! Don't tell me. You're here for Daisuke, aren't you?"

"Actually, yes, Mrs. Matsuda," said Natsuki. "I heard from his friends at school that he was sick, and I j-just wanted to pay him a little visit."

"Oh, that's really sweet of you," said Mrs. Matsuda. "Yes, he got sick yesterday. He said he wasn't feeling too well, but he insisted on going out to help me at the nearby grocer's—and without a jacket, too! I told him to wear one for the cold, but he was just too stubborn. Said that it wasn't that cold to begin with, and that he might just be tired from school and all. Well, once his temperature started rising last night, he was proven otherwise."

Natsuki sighed. Yesterday had indeed been one of the coldest days thus far—a presage to the onset of winter—and the evening only grew even frostier from there. "Is he feeling okay now?"

"Yes, he's doing a bit better than last night," replied Mrs. Matsuda. At that, she waved her hands. "Come, come, I'll take you to him. He's just resting upstairs in his room."

With that, she took Natsuki through the diner's kitchen. Inside, there were various kitchen utensils and instruments that were strewn about—knives, chopping boards, ladles, bowls, and other such things. Next to them were small baskets of vegetables like carrots, potatoes and cabbage, ready to be chopped up for any other food orders that might come. In the air was a faint but tantalizing scent of cooked food. On one side, there was another teenage girl and a woman who were busy cleaning up some used pots and utensils among the counters and the nearby stove placing them in the sink to be washed.

Following Mrs. Matsuda, Natsuki was led through the door that connected the family diner to the house. It was almost as if Natsuki had stepped into a wholly different place as the scenery transitioned from the tiled walls and floors of the diner's kitchen to the house's interior.

"By the way," said Mrs. Matsuda, "what's with that face mask you have on, dear?"

"Oh, just for m-my autumn allergies," Natsuki lied.

"Ah, that explains it. Daisuke tends to have those during spring. Anyway, this way," said Mrs. Matsuda, beckoning Natsuki towards the nearby staircase. Natsuki followed her in silence, looking around at the house as she did. In a way, she was reminded of her own home, with the plain wooden floors and the walls decorated with simple wallpaper, but somehow, the place felt much more . . . _alive_ by comparison. Then again, that could only be because her house's general atmosphere had felt so stagnant for a long time now.

The second floor had four rooms joined by a very short hallway. Mrs. Matsuda led her to the one farthest down the hall, rapping lightly on the door as they arrived.

"Come in," came Daisuke's voice from within. Natsuki took note of how hoarse he seemed to sound. Meanwhile, Mrs. Matsuda opened the door a little and peeked inside.

"Daisuke, dear? Someone's here to see you," she said, smiling.

When Daisuke spoke, he sounded genuinely surprised. "Really? Who is it?"

Natsuki swallowed nervously as Mrs. Matsuda stepped aside to let her through the door. Inside, Daisuke was lying in his bed, next to a couple of his school books. He was wearing a plain blue shirt with a pair of white pajamas, and his hair was wavier than ever with bedhead. In a way, it made him look cute in her eyes.

When he caught sight of her, he drew back. "Natsuki, w-what are you doing here?" he asked, sitting up as quickly as his weakened state would allow.

"Ah, don't you dare get out of that bed, Daisuke!" said Mrs. Matsuda with a slightly stern voice. "Just keep lying down, okay? I'll leave you two here for the meantime. If you need anything, just call. I'll be at the kitchen."

"T-Thank you, Mrs. Matsuda," said Natsuki with a polite nod.

When his mother had left, Daisuke asked again, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I heard that you were sick, so I just . . . d-decided to visit you for a bit," replied Natsuki nervously.

"Wait, 'heard'? But I texted you about that. I told you I was sick."

"Yeah, well, that's the thing. I forgot my phone at home, so I didn't see you text me earlier this morning. I only found out from your friend Kenta."

"Oh, that explains it." Daisuke sat up straighter with a grunt. "What did I miss at school?"

"Nothing much, except for some homework for Moral Studies and Science," replied Natsuki. "I'll tell you about it all later. Anyway, I bought you some snacks."

She raised the plastic bag where her purchases from the convenience store were. Daisuke turned slightly pink as he scratched his head. "You know you didn't have to," he mumbled.

"I know, I just . . ." Natsuki blushed as well. "I just thought that you might be hungry, okay?" she hissed in an effort to ward off her embarrassment.

Daisuke smiled. "Okay, okay, I get it," he said.

"And then your mom told me earlier that you got sick in the first place because you didn't wear a jacket last night when you helped her out," Natsuki went on, putting down her plastic bag of snacks on Daisuke's nearby desk in a huff. "I know that you wanted to help her even if you were feeling weird, but you could've at least worn a jacket while you were doing so, right? Especially for last night. Now look at you, missing out on school because of that."

With a sigh, she pulled up the chair next to the desk and sat down. She glanced at Daisuke, who was watching her with an unfathomable look in his eyes. His smile was gone, but the warmth on his face seemed to linger.

"Look, I'm just . . . I was just worried about you, okay?" she said in a gentler tone. "I thought you were down with the flu or something."

"I understand," said Daisuke, sighing. "It's just a fever, luckily. Took some meds earlier, felt a bit better, enough for me to start reviewing what I might've missed at school. Mom's telling me I should just keep resting for another day, but I wanna go back to school quickly. I might miss out on more stuff if I don't."

"Maybe you should just follow your mom's advice for now," Natsuki offered seriously. "Bed rest is the best thing to have against sickness. If you strain yourself too much while you're not yet at a hundred percent, your fever might return—or grow worse."

"Now you're starting to really sound like Mom," said Daisuke with a laugh.

"I'm serious," said Natsuki crossly. "Besides, your mom and sister are both busy, so if your fever comes back or gets worse, there might not be anyone who'll take care of you in the meantime. Trust me, I've been sick before, and I've had no one to—"

Quite suddenly, Natsuki stopped speaking as she remembered those times that she had just mentioned—being sick but also being the one who bought her own medicine simply because her father was too busy with other things to even care. When she spoke again, her voice shook slightly.

"My point is, missing out on another day at school is fine, okay? Besides, if you let this fever come back or grow stronger, you might end up missing the exams, and that's worse than being absent on an ordinary school day, right?"

Daisuke sighed. "Alright, you got me. If I'm not yet at a hundred percent by tomorrow, I'll take another day off to rest."

"_Rest_, not study, okay?"

Daisuke laughed again. "Yes, ma'am."

Natsuki glared at him petulantly. "Don't call me 'ma'am,' okay? It makes it sound like I'm an older woman or something."

"Sorry about that," said Daisuke lightly. "But you don't have to worry about being mistaken for an older woman, not when you're . . ."

"Not when I'm _what_?" asked Natsuki with a dangerous tone.

Daisuke chuckled. "Nothing. No, wait, seriously! It's nothing!" he yelled as Natsuki stood up, her hands balled into fists. He shrank backwards, using a pillow as a shield.

"You're saying that I look like a little kid or something, aren't you?!" she snapped, striding closer to him.

"I didn't say anything!" said Daisuke in between chuckles.

"You're thinking it, you jerk!" Natsuki cried. "Don't think that I can't punch you just because you're sick!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," said Daisuke, still laughing as he set down the pillow. "I couldn't help it. I missed you, you know?"

Natsuki stopped in her tracks. "W-What are you saying?" she stammered as she felt her face heat up. "It's only been just a day."

"Yeah, well, even so, I couldn't help but think about you," Daisuke admitted. "When you didn't reply to my text earlier, I got a bit worried."

Natsuki sighed, her embarrassment at Daisuke's concern deepening. "I'm fine. Like I said, I just forgot my phone at home."

"Yeah. Um, how's . . . how's home?"

Silence fell between them. Natsuki looked at Daisuke again. She had guessed that it would only be a matter of time before he asks her about her situation at home, especially since she was still wearing her face mask. Daisuke's tone was tenuous, as if he was careful not to set off anything untoward.

"Doing better," said Natsuki in reply. "Dad's calmed down a little. Pretty soon, my face will heal up, and I won't have to wear this stupid face mask anymore."

"I see," said Daisuke with a nod. Natsuki could tell that he wasn't satisfied, as if he had guessed the part that she left unsaid. She sat down on his bed quietly.

"I'll be fine," she told him. "It's like I told you before. I'll manage."

Daisuke merely kept looking at her. Natsuki stared into those amber eyes that she now knew so well and saw worry beneath them. She knew that it wouldn't do to tell him that everything would be fine in an instant, but she couldn't also bring herself to say that things will never get better. For now, all she could do was assure Daisuke that she would be able to soldier on and get back on track.

To change the topic, she reached out towards him and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. Daisuke flinched a little, evidently not expecting her to do such a thing. Natsuki, on the other hand, let his hand stay where she had put it for a few seconds. Against her skin, Daisuke's forehead still felt unnaturally warm.

"Have you eaten already?" she asked.

"Not really," replied Daisuke. "My appetite's not exactly up to par when I'm sick. I only eat a bit before I take my meds."

"Ah. That's understandable," said Natsuki, "but you'll get better a lot faster if you eat up."

"Well, I think Mom's preparing some soup for me right now," said Daisuke. "She said earlier that she'll make me some."

"Alright, hang on," said Natsuki, standing up. "I'll go ask her about it."

"Wait, what?" Daisuke shifted nervously on his bed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," said Natsuki firmly. "Now, just stay right there, okay? And don't you dare get out of bed!"

Before Daisuke could reply, Natsuki left his room and went back down the stairs. As soon as she reached the foot of the staircase, she ran into Hiroko, who had just walked through the kitchen door and into the rest of the house.

"Whoa, hey there, Nats!" she said, looking surprised as she took off the coat she was wearing. Her uniform underneath—a white blouse and a black skirt—gave her boyish appearance a womanly air. "So Mom wasn't lying after all—you're actually here."

"Y-Yeah," said Natsuki with a nervous laugh. "I was just—"

"Visiting Dai on his sickbed. I know, Mom told me," Hiroko interrupted. She grinned knowingly at her. "Dai's had his buddies come here a few times before, but this is definitely the first time a girl came over."

That made Natsuki even more self-conscious about her choice to come over. "Well, someone at school h-had to keep an eye on him before he missed anything important, you know?" she said, laughing a little.

"Maybe," said Hiroko, laughing with her. "Anyway, with you around, I'm sure Dai's gonna get well soon enough."

"Y-You sure about that?" asked Natsuki.

"Of course," replied Hiroko with a wink. "You have that kind of effect on him, after all."

* * *

_She visited me. She actually visited me._

Daisuke breathed shallowly as he rested his back against his bed's headrest. It had taken quite a bit of his willpower to prevent himself from lying down as he conversed with Natsuki. As if his fever hadn't done the job of raising his temperature, his heartbeat seemed to have skyrocketed as soon as he saw Natsuki standing at the doorway of his room. During the conversation they had, he had felt both relieved and agitated; of course, Natsuki's presence was always welcome to him, but the fact that she showed up while he was sick felt rather awkward to him. Of course, it wouldn't be Natsuki without her characteristic grumpiness, but still. . .

For the most part, he had been worried that his absence at school would mean that Natsuki would have to endure a day without him during the aftermath of a trying time for her. Monika's get-together had done wonders for everyone involved, taking off a lot of stress from their shoulders even for just a day. However, reality sank in after that as they went back to their books and their problems, which were always there waiting for them. For the former, Daisuke had tried to catch up by reading in bed despite the protests that his mother—and now Natsuki—gave him. For the latter, he knew he could never forget about Natsuki's home situation, and his worry far outweighed any discomfort he was feeling from his current sickness. Her face mask will always serve as a grim reminder of that day when she told him about it, even long after her bruises had healed and the mask is taken off.

Natsuki returned around five minutes later. Daisuke had expected her to simply come back in and tell him that his mother would soon be bringing over the soup that she was cooking for him to eat, but to his great surprise, she was actually carrying the bowl carefully with her. Her eyes looked dead serious, as if she was willing herself not to do anything clumsy and spill the bowl's contents all over the floor of Daisuke's room as she carried it. To protect her from the heat, she had put on a pair of oversized kitchen mitts, which gave Daisuke the impression that she had fluffy paws instead of hands.

"Okay, here's your soup," said Natsuki, setting the bowl down on the end table next to his bed with great care. Daisuke's nostrils soon caught a whiff of the soup, and in spite of the lack of appetite that he had because of his fever, he felt his mouth water a little.

"Alright, lemme just sit up properly," Daisuke grunted, using his hands to push himself to a comfortable sitting position on his bed. Before he could straighten himself up well enough, though, Natsuki clicked her tongue.

"Don't bother," she said shortly, "I'll just help you eat."

Daisuke stared at her. "What was that?"

"Didn't you hear me? I said I'm gonna help you eat!" Natsuki snapped. "Jeez, why do you have to make me repeat myself?!"

Natsuki's crabbiness aside, Daisuke could tell that she was just as flustered about this as he was. "Natsuki, I can eat perfectly fine on my own," he said a bit feebly. "Just bring—"

"No," Natsuki interrupted. "Just sit still, okay?"

Not waiting for any other reply or protest from him, Natsuki picked up the bowl from the end table, once again careful not to move it too much lest the soup inside got spilled. She propped the bowl on her left hand, cushioning it atop the kitchen mitt she was wearing there, and shook the other mitt from her right hand so that she could hold the spoon that was simmering in the bowl. Her eyes were concentrating on the soup, avoiding Daisuke's gaze; Daisuke could see how red her ears were.

"Alright," he said with a sigh. "Shoot. Or rather, 'soup.'"

Natsuki sighed in exasperation. "Very funny."

And so, resting his back fully against the headrest of his bed, Daisuke watched as Natsuki ladled a spoonful of soup, blew on it to cool it off a little, and carefully directed it towards him. He could feel his heart pounding a bit faster in his chest; there was something oddly intimate about what Natsuki was doing, making him feel rather mortified. Nevertheless, he knew better than to leave her up in the air with her obvious efforts to take care of him, so he readily went along with what she wanted.

It didn't surprise him that the soup his mother had prepared tasted nothing short of heavenly. Through the broth, he tasted chicken and vegetables even as his mouth felt rather parched from having been deprived of good food for a while now. As an added bonus, the heat of it warmed him up, warding off the autumn cold that prevailed faintly within his house and providing some form of relief to his heightened temperature. All throughout, Natsuki took care to never give him a spoonful of soup that was hot enough to scald his tongue, showing Daisuke just how careful and serious she was about this whole business.

When the bowl was emptied, Natsuki set it aside on the end table once again. "Do you need some water?" she asked, putting the kitchen mitts next to the bowl.

"No, not really," Daisuke mumbled. The soup had caused him to sweat out a bit of his fever already. "Maybe later, when I'm gonna drink my meds."

"Alright, just make sure you drink your medicine after this, okay?"

Daisuke grinned. "Yes, ma'am. I mean, yes," he quickly added as Natsuki glowered at him.

"Do you get sick often?" she asked.

"Not really," replied Daisuke. "Only when I'm too stubborn for my own good, I suppose. How about you?"

"As a kid, all the time," said Natsuki. "I wasn't exactly as fit as other kids were, so I was prone to getting sick. Now that I'm older, I guess my immune system's gotten a bit tougher than before, but I'm still careful about doing stuff that might get me sick. _You_ should also be careful," she added sternly, pointing the spoon at Daisuke.

Daisuke chuckled. "Can't help it. I always help Mom because she can't always carry her groceries by herself when she restocks the diner. Last night was no different, with or without my jacket."

"You really like helping people out, don't you?"

"I guess you can say that. Mom needs all the help she can get. Hiroko's at work for the better part of the day, and I'm the only man in the house, so . . ."

As he said those words, Daisuke remembered his father. For a moment, not for the first time in his life, he imagined what it would be like if he was around again to help him, Hiroko and his mother. A short silence prevailed between them; even Natsuki seemed to have guessed what he was thinking about.

"Anyway, if you're done, I'm just gonna take this bowl back," said Natsuki after a short while.

"Oh, yes. Go ahead," Daisuke mumbled.

* * *

Mrs. Matsuda was still busy cooking when Natsuki reentered the kitchen; her helpers had gone off earlier to pick up some supplies at the grocery. Mrs. Matsuda waved her hand when she spotted her.

"Ah, Natsuki, is Daisuke done eating?" she called out as she checked the contents of one pot and adjusted the stove heat on another in one swift motion. "Or does he want some more soup?"

"He told me that he's full, Mrs. Matsuda," replied Natsuki as she set down the empty bowl near the sink. "I reminded him to eat some more again later, so he can get back on his feet faster."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure of that," said Mrs. Matsuda as she now began cutting up some vegetables on one of the nearby counters. "Thank you for bringing the soup up to him, by the way. It's rather hard to bounce between here and upstairs, especially when people start coming in before the evening sets in."

"It was nothing, Mrs. Matsuda," said Natsuki tactfully.

Mrs. Matsuda smiled. "Do you want to eat anything? I can cook you up something real quick if you want."

"Oh, no, I'll be fine, Mrs. Matsuda," replied Natsuki, even though at the back of her mind she knew what kind of food she might be coming home to.

"Are you sure? You look like you're not eating well again, young lady," said Mrs. Matsuda knowingly.

Natsuki looked around at her, startled. "W-What was that, Mrs. Matsuda?"

Mrs. Matsuda sighed as she finished slicing up a carrot. "Daisuke told me before about how you tend to go to school without eating breakfast. Sometimes, you even miss out on lunch! I haven't talked to you about this, and I know I'm in no position to poke into someone else's business, but it's been at the back of my mind for quite a while now."

Swallowing anxiously, Natsuki wrung her hands together. Daisuke's worry about her not eating properly was a given at this point, but to hear the same concern coming from Mrs. Matsuda first-hand was rather overwhelming. Of course, in hindsight, Natsuki knew that she should have expected her to know; she just did not expect her to mention it directly.

"I just t-tend to forget eating sometimes, that's all, Mrs. Matsuda," she lied. "I focus too much on a lot of things at school, so I end up skipping meals while I'm busy w-with stuff."

"Well, I can see where you're coming from, with how schoolwork can be too much for you kids at times," Mrs. Matsuda stated. "I've seen that a few times before with Hiroko back when she was still studying, and with Daisuke, too. Really, schools should reconsider how their curriculums work; they shouldn't overwork you students all the time. Still, if you can help it, try to eat regularly, okay? All that study work won't matter in the end if you're too weakened by hunger to continue bothering with it."

Behind her mask, Natsuki couldn't help but smile even amidst her discomfiture. From the way Mrs. Matsuda spoke, it seemed obvious that this was how she talked to Daisuke as well. Once again, it reminded her of what it was like to have a mother, and even as her heart broke a little at the thought, she was greatly touched.

"I understand, Mrs. Matsuda," said Natsuki. "Daisuke keeps telling me similar stuff, too. I'll be sure to keep it all in mind, thank you."

"It's nothing, dear," said Mrs. Matsuda with a smile. "Are you sure you don't want to stay and eat for tonight?"

"M-Maybe next time, Mrs. Matsuda," replied Natsuki. "I have to get going. I'll just go back upstairs to say goodbye to Daisuke, and I'll be leaving."

"Well, just take care out there, okay?" said Mrs. Matsuda. "Don't get sick like Daisuke did!"

Natsuki laughed a little. "Yes, Mrs. Matsuda. Thank you."

* * *

Daisuke was sorry to see Natsuki go, but he knew that she needed to, especially since he knew what might be waiting for her at home if she arrived a little too late. She had spent the last five minutes sitting next to Daisuke's bed, telling him about their homework for the day.

"Do you think I'll be able to go back to school by tomorrow?" he asked her.

"Only if you get enough rest, drink your meds, and eat as much as you can manage," said Natsuki shortly. "If you strain yourself too much, then you can forget about being cured of that fever by tomorrow."

Daisuke snickered. "Can't argue with that," he said. "You know, it's kinda weird to see you like this, Natsuki. Taking care of someone and all. Not that you're incapable of doing stuff like that, no. It's just . . ."

"Just what?" Natsuki asked quietly.

"You take care of people, even if you're the one who also needs taking care of."

Natsuki's brow furrowed. "I can take care of myself perfectly well."

"I know that, but . . . you know what I'm talking about, Natsuki."

Natsuki bowed her head. Before she could speak up again, though, Daisuke reached out and held her hand. Even with his fever, her skin felt warm to the touch. She looked up at him, her pink eyes shining oddly.

"It sounds lame, right? Like I'm some sort of knight in shining armor who wants to help a damsel in distress who's already strong enough to fight on her own," Daisuke went on.

Natsuki sighed. "I know where you're coming from. I just . . . I don't want anything bad happening to you because of this."

"What if I don't care if anything bad happens to me?" asked Daisuke. He wanted to sound determined, but his fever only helped him succeed in sounding a bit strained.

"I care, Daisuke," said Natsuki firmly as she tightened her hold on his hand. "You don't have to be always concerned about me on this. I'll do my best to be fine, so you won't have to worry."

Daisuke sighed. "Are you sure?"

After a brief pause, Natsuki took her hand off his for a moment to pull down her face mask. The swelling on her cheek had subsided greatly, though there was still some discoloration there. The cut on her lip had also healed up. She gave him a small but reassuring smile.

"Well, there's this saying that I always go back to: People can try, but that's about it."


	33. Chapter 33 - The Scuttering of a Raccoon

_A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters._

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE – THE SCUTTERING OF A RACCOON (YuKi)**

The only sounds that prevailed in the classroom were the ambient tones of the school—the rustling of the trees outside, silent footsteps echoing through the corridors, doors from adjacent rooms opening and closing. They were punctuated by the occasional sigh from an exasperated student or the announcements that a proctor made about how many minutes remained for the class to answer their tests. Any student's hopes that the exams would be postponed after the fire that happened around two weeks ago were dashed when it was announced that everything would push through with little to no changes in schedules. Those whose classrooms were affected in some way by the fire were simply transferred to vacant rooms at other locations in the school.

Of course, Naoki wouldn't have it any other way. Delaying the exams would only increase the strain in leading up to them; as with anything related to the academic, he preferred to get things over with as soon as possible, something that put him occasionally at odds with Kenta and his belief that more time off from schoolwork is always good. Other students sided with Kenta, but none could deny that the bliss _after _the exams is always better than the proverbial calm before the storm.

Though that wasn't to say the study session that took place a couple of weeks ago wasn't enjoyable. Again, as he had told Yuri, Naoki preferred to study alone instead of being with an entire group—more time to think and less time to mess around—but the experience had been a surprisingly dynamic and refreshing one. Apart from the quality time he spent with Yuri and his best buddies, he managed to meet some new people as well. Monika, of course, was already well-known among everyone, while Akihiro was becoming more familiar to the group by the week, but the ones that he had never talked to in person before—namely Sayori and Natsuki, whom he only heard frequently from Akihiro and Daisuke—also seemed to be an amiable lot. Sayori was every bit as friendly as Akihiro had said before, possibly even more so compared to when she was Naoki's classmate, while Natsuki was candid as well, though she also seemed to be a bit too serious at times.

Naoki sighed and shook his head. Thinking about the study session made him long for the get-together that the eight of them had agreed to after the exams were done. Knowing that distractions won't do at the moment, he bunkered down and focused on the remaining questions that lay before him.

_Enumerate and expound on at least five major events that took place during the Edo Period._

_Name the shogunates and their respective leaders that ruled Japan during the Medieval Period._

_Which countries were annexed under Japan after the first Sino-Japanese War?_

Looking at the questions, History seemed simple enough to Naoki, especially when compared to the more complicated questions found in the likes of Mathematics and Science on some occasions. He, like many others, were thankful that Mathematics had already been dealt with yesterday; it had been relatively noisier then as fingers tapped against scientific calculators, with some pressing the buttons with excessive ire as if to express their exasperation at the equations they were required to solve. When it was all over, though, the tension had eased, and everyone looked forward to finishing strongly for the next couple of days. After today, only Science and Moral Studies would be left, and after that is the time that many in school were waiting for.

Careful not to look as if he was cheating, Naoki shifted his gaze around the room, observing his classmates as he dwelt on what he would be writing down on his exam paper. Next to him, Kenta was tackling his paper more quietly for today; yesterday, it had taken every ounce of his self-control for him to refrain from swearing out loud as he solved equations.

To Naoki's right, meanwhile, Yuri was showing her nerves by occasionally sighing, shifting in her seat and twirling her hair with her finger idly. What worried him most, however, was the fact that she seemed keen on being alone for the past few days. After the study session they had over at her house and the one that took place at Monika's house, Yuri seemed to have bounced back well enough, but everything changed once exam week arrived. Naoki guessed that deep down, Yuri was still more anxious about the exams than she liked to admit. Looking back at the time when she spilled tea on his notes by accident, he imagined that she was also still dwelling on that incident in secret, and it was adding to her overall stress. The two of them had not mentioned what happened that day again so far, but Naoki was prepared to remind Yuri that what she did was just an accident. Hopefully, once the exams were over, she would also be back to her quiet but happy self.

Fifteen minutes later, the professor presiding over them spoke up. "Last five minutes, everyone."

Naoki glossed over his paper one more time, double-checking his answers on the parts with multiple choices and making sure that he did not leave anything out in the essays. Other students did so as well, sitting up straighter in their seats and finalizing what they had written. When the time was up, they were instructed to pass their papers in orderly fashion, and just like that, it was as if a veil had been lifted from the classroom as everyone began to stir and speak once again, discussing and comparing their answers while voicing their concerns over the ones they were unsure of.

Kenta stretched in his seat. "Well, that went better than I expected," he said, grinning. "Better than damn Math yesterday, that's for sure. Didja do well, Naoki? Ah, what am I saying? Of course you did!"

"We won't know for sure until the papers come back checked and graded, Kenta," said Naoki, smiling.

"Ah, cut that out. You always get better grades than me or Daisuke," said Kenta, waving his hand dismissively. "Anyway, it's good that it's just gonna be Science for tomorrow, and we'll be home free."

"Science _and _Moral Studies, Kenta," Naoki reminded him.

"Bah! Moral Studies is a pushover anyway," Kenta guffawed. "Science is a bit more important, but only 'cuz it's a tougher nut to crack."

Before Naoki could reply to Kenta's statement, however, he saw something to the side that caught his eye: Yuri, her head bowed and her hands pressed against her chest, hurrying out of the classroom door. His brow furrowed at the sight, bringing his worry back in full force.

Kenta, who seemed to have noticed the change on his expression, looked around towards where he was glancing. "What is it?"

"Nothing," replied Naoki quietly. "It's just Yuri."

Kenta looked at him. "Is something wrong or were you just looking at your girl like you always do?" he asked, grinning amusedly.

"I just hope she's alright. She hasn't been herself for a while now," said Naoki, looking at the closed door after her.

"Well, the exams always get to people. One day you're doing alright reviewing and all that, but once you're staring at the actual exam, you just feel completely out of the loop," said Kenta. "Maybe after this, she'll do better."

Naoki sighed. "Yes, maybe."

* * *

Gingerly, Yuri unfurled the bandage on her left forearm, careful not to make a sound from within the cubicle. The bandage's fibers stuck to her scars, which were still wet with droplets of blood, causing pain to pierce through her arm. She allowed a deep, trembling sigh to escape from her nostrils as she savored the sensation, which seemed to merge almost harmoniously with the rising beat of her heart inside her chest. Her knees shook a little, causing her to feel grateful for the stability that the toilet on which she sat offered. In ten minutes, their last exam for the day would start. Yuri knew that she needed to wrap things up—literally, she imagined as she looked at her forearm—and get back to the classroom by then. If it was up to her, however, she would rather stay locked inside the cubicle and wait until the school was devoid of people before coming back out. Somehow, it was the only way that she would feel secure right now.

It was one thing to review for the exams, to pore over notes and books and nail down whatever needs nailing in order to take them head on, and it was a whole other thing to actually be there in a chair scrutinizing one question after another, skipping the questions that proved too tough to answer and quickly picking off the easiest ones. During times like these, memories of exams past often come drifting back, reminding students of the euphoria of acing a test as it goes, and the despair of sitting through an agonizing hour trying to salvage another and scrape a measly passing grade in the process. Yuri had seen her fair shares of both experiences, but the nerve-wracking sensation that the latter scenario brought was always too much for her. Even though she never admitted it publicly, she always strived for a standard that she sets for herself; any scenario where she would fizzle and fail made her feel so embarrassed, so feeble. It reminded her of laughter in the corridors, of fingers pointing towards her, of shaking heads and derisive eyes.

And then, and then . . . the scars, like Ariadne's thread, would always help her find a way out, help grant her the respite that she looked for.

While she was reviewing alone in her room during the past few days, Yuri always had certain preparations made to ensure that her studying would be as optimal and comfortable as possible: an essential oil of her choice suffusing the atmosphere with its aroma, a pot full of oolong tea with an empty cup standing ready next to it, a scented candle whose light and smell will provide extra comfort. However, instead of doing their job as Yuri had wanted to, her preparations only served to remind her of that disastrous study session she had with Naoki.

Who had been clumsy enough to put so much jasmine essential oil in the diffuser to the point where everyone's senses had been clouded? Who had been clumsy enough to spill a cup of oolong tea all over Naoki's notes? Who brought the tea up to her room anyway?

Who invited Naoki over for a study session in the first place?

Yuri fought hard to make up for the accident, even amid all of Naoki's assurances that it was nothing too bad to worry about. Determined to make a good first impression upon the other people who were present at the study session facilitated by Kenta and Monika Steinbeck of 3-A, she did her best to not seem too quiet or aloof, though she avoided speaking up first if she could help it in order to not draw too much attention to herself. Looking back, that was all Yuri had ever done in a great part of her life. At school, outside, even at home, she always strived to find a way to be under the radar and away from those judgmental gazes. After all, she can never know when a friendly face may change after she does something untoward.

It made her feel like some kind of monster. Then again, maybe she actually was one, considering this horrible . . . _addiction_ she had.

Was it an addiction? Back then, ostracism, a punishment for failure, heartache—these were the causes of her taking a blade to task on her skin. Such things seemed distant now, but long after the judging eyes of her peers had looked away, long after her heart had decided to peek back out with the hope of never being broken, Yuri had suffered from the fear that it can happen all over again. That was one of the reasons why she kept going at it until one scar became two, and two became four, and so on. After all, why would someone care to count how many lashes a whip can make? Compared to feeling like the world was crumbling around you, bodily pain seemed like a better tradeoff.

Still, amidst all that, there were certain friends that she had, friends that she could rely on. There were her novels, offering her another means of escape from reality; and there were her poems, which allowed her to create lines of a different sort whenever things became too much. With these as well as a combination of luck and circumstances siding with her, she had managed to stay clean. The scars healed, and though they remained on her forearm, there was no reason for her to add any more for a very long time. Some experiences make her grip her arm multiple times, giving her pain, but that had always been enough to remind her not to pick up her knives for that dark task again.

Once things started happening for her anxiety to creep in like weeds in a garden, however, Yuri felt cornered. Normally, when it came to anxiety attacks, people would simply suggest doing something to distract from the worry—a perfect time for her to rely on her poetry and reading, in theory—but they never knew what it was like to feel anxious, to feel as if the entire world was against you. During moments like that, all thoughts about reading or writing would be thrown out of the window as her brain struggled to perceive what to do and who to approach. That was when the blades of her knives began to look like the friendliest things on earth, and the pain that came with it being cathartic, even enlightening to a certain degree.

That brought Yuri back down to earth about why she came to the girls' restroom in the first place. Carefully placing the bloodstained roll of bandages that she had just unfurled atop her knee, she took out the small bottle of alcohol she kept hidden in her skirt's pocket, poured a few drops onto her palm, and quickly braced her forearm in one swift movement. Instantly, pain seared through her entire being, causing her to let out an involuntary gasp as her eyes watered a little. It felt as if large needles were searing into her arm, piercing through her muscles and setting her nerves on fire. Still, the pain gave her solace. It gave her focus. It helped to ease her worries in a way that no essential oil or scented candle or cup of oolong tea ever could.

Just like that, she was done. She rerolled the bandages around her forearm, covered everything with the sleeve of her uniform's blazer, and left the restroom feeling more secure compared to before. Sometimes, it was remarkable how so much can be accomplished within so little time, even where knives were concerned.

* * *

When Yuri arrived home later that day, her grandmother was busy raking some fallen leaves in their garden. She looked up when she heard the gate open. "Ah, Granddaughter, how did today's exams go?" she asked her with a smile.

Yuri only had to look back at her little jaunt earlier at the girls' restroom to get a feel of how the exams went. "It w-went well, Grandmother," she replied. "If you need me, I'll be upstairs reviewing at my room, as always."

"Alright, I'll be preparing dinner shortly," said her grandmother. "Watch out for anyone that comes calling, okay? I won't be able to hear them from the kitchen."

"Yes, Grandmother," replied Yuri dutifully.

After she had gotten dressed, she sat down at the foot of her bed with a sigh. Inside the privacy of her room, she was free to look at her scars. She had thrown away the bandages that she had used to wrap them up before, readying up a new roll to use for tomorrow. There was virtually no need for her to keep them wrapped up inside the house, since all Yuri had to do was to wear one of her long-sleeved shirts or sweaters to keep them discreet when she goes downstairs for dinner.

Glancing at each new scar one by one, Yuri's thoughts drifted back to the knives she had used for them. The first, of course, had been the leaf-shaped one that she used during her potentially disastrous study session with Naoki. The second one had been the hunting knife with the cream-colored handle, which had the privilege of easing her anxiety after a particularly stressful and seemingly pointless review session for Mathematics several days ago. The third and most recent one was the kunai-like blade, a tool she used to feel better about not being able to polish her answers for the last quiz they had for Science before exams came. So far, Yuri did not know why she was saving her favorite Damascus steel blade for last, and that brought her to the thought that she might be anticipating another time in the future where she will cut again.

_Is this actually an addiction? And am I feeding it? _In her mind, it no longer seemed like a matter of_ if_, but rather of _when_. For a fleeting moment, she felt fear well up in her.

At that moment, a bell rang downstairs. Yuri recognized the tone; it was their house's old brass doorbell, which hung from a sconce next to the front door for people to ring on. Living in one of the city's older houses, her grandmother saw no reason to install an electronic doorbell, not when this one still worked perfectly well and did not rely on electricity or any kind of maintenance at all. Following her grandmother's wishes to listen and look out for any visitors while she was in the kitchen, Yuri went down the stairs to answer the door, imagining that it must be one of the traveling salesmen that often did their door-to-door rounds through town.

The bell rang a second time just as she reached the front door. "Can I help y—" she began as she opened the door a little, but she stopped short as soon as her eyes saw who exactly was ringing the bell.

Naoki stood there, still in his school things; it was evident that he had not gone home yet. He smiled apologetically. "Hello," he said.

"N-Naoki!" gasped Yuri. "What are you doing here?!"

"I just wanted to, you know . . . drop by before I went home."

Yuri looked over her shoulder, checking if her grandmother was coming out of the kitchen. In a way, she was very thankful that the long-sleeved white shirt and black shorts she wore weren't too casual to show in front of Naoki. "Well, w-why didn't you text me?" she asked in a flustered tone, looking back at him.

"I did," replied Naoki, looking a bit surprised. "You didn't reply to any of my messages at dismissal time, though. I'm sorry if, you know, it might've been too straightforward for me to just show up on your doorstep like this without waiting for your reply. . ."

At that, Yuri remembered that she had never looked at her cellphone even once for the entire day. "Oh, don't worry, it's not," she said. "I w-was just a bit preoccupied with a lot of things, so I didn't know you were texting me. Anyway, do you want to come in?"

She opened the door a bit wider, but Naoki shook his head. "No, I won't be staying for too long anyway. If it's alright with you, we can just talk out here."

Yuri looked at the outside of the house nervously, imagining how many people might overhear them talking. Moreover, she was not wearing any bandages for her forearm. Praying to the heavens that her scars had now truly dried out so that Naoki wouldn't notice anything, she replied, "Okay, if y-you insist."

She stepped out of the house, quietly closing the door behind her. Yuri wondered why she was even worried about letting her grandmother know that Naoki had showed up again at their place, but she felt like it was best to just let her be in the kitchen. She led Naoki through the garden and towards a small wooden bench that sat next to one of the house's windows, some distance away from the kitchen. Naoki followed her, and the two of them sat down in silence.

Naoki took off his backpack and placed it down on the garden's grassy floor. "So . . . how are you?" he asked.

Yuri looked at him. "Um, I'm doing fine. W-Why are you asking?"

Naoki sighed. "Well, I'm just worried. The past few days told me that you might not be doing too well. Are you . . . Are you anxious again about something?"

"N-No!" Yuri lied, blurting out the word before she could stop herself. Her hand darted quickly to her forearm almost involuntarily, grasping it briefly and sending pain shooting through her for a moment. All of a sudden, it felt as if she was being cornered into confessing to doing something horrible. A short silence followed her outburst as she realized that, obviously, cornering her was never Naoki's intention. She coughed and looked down, feeling even more nervous now.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-to shout like that," she stammered as she let go of her arm. "T-To honestly answer your question . . . y-yes, I've been feeling a bit on edge."

"I see," said Naoki quietly. "It can't be helped. I mean, a lot of us have been on edge ever since exam week rolled in. I just feared that it might be too much on your end, after that one where . . . w-well . . . you know."

Yuri nodded, knowing that he was referring to her episode at their study session. "It's like you said. Things like this do happen. For me, it happened a lot sooner than I anticipated. I d-don't think I've ever felt this anxious about . . . everything."

"Don't worry, I've been through similar feelings and experiences," said Naoki in a comforting tone.

Yuri looked at him. "You have?"

"Yeah," replied Naoki. "I get that it's different between people, but I suppose what I've been through in the past is similar to what you're going through right now. When you've got good grades for a long time, people expect you to be consistent about them. It's never an easy task, but I try to do my best in order to make my parents proud. It doesn't always turn out good, because I end up worrying too much about my grades and stressing myself out over requirements."

"H-How do you cope with that?" asked Yuri.

Naoki shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest. Sometimes, the stress just passes me by, and everything goes back to normal. After that, I just reflect on what I can do in the future so that I wouldn't feel too stressed out if it happened again. I will say this, though; friends are a big help. I've learned that their company can provide a lot of help and relief. That's when I really appreciate Kenta's 'don't-sweat-it' approach to things, and Daisuke's laid-back humor."

Yuri knew exactly what Naoki meant. The get-together they had at Monika's house had been a testament to that. While it was a study session in essence, it had provided a nice way for them all to bust some stress simply by being in each other's company. "Yes, that's why I had a lot of fun as well when we studied with the others at Monika's. To be honest, I thought I'd be d-doing better after that day."

"Don't worry," said Naoki with a smile, "we don't have to wait too long anymore for another get-together like that. Once the exams are over—and that'll be tomorrow—we'll start planning where to go with everyone next. Isn't that nice?"

"It is," said Yuri, attempting to smile. Her anxiousness, however, seemed to outweigh her optimism. What she was anxious about at the moment apart from being in Naoki's presence, she didn't know. "I hope t-to get back on track by then."

Naoki looked at her intently, his smile fading a little. "Don't worry, you will. Just one more day, and we'll finally be done with exams, at least for another month and a half."

Wordlessly, Yuri nodded in reply. "So, how was History earlier? Did you do well?" Naoki asked her.

"I suppose so," said Yuri tentatively. It wasn't the questions that had bothered her so much as her own anxiety did. "I was unsure of some of the answers I wrote for some parts, but there's no point in worrying about them now, not when the exam is over. . ."

"Yeah, it can't be helped," said Naoki. "At least it went better than Math yesterday."

"I agree," Yuri mused. "I just know that I did horribly there. . ."

"Hey, don't say that," Naoki told her. "Maybe you actually did a lot better than you think. Exams tend to do that, you know? You feel like you messed up, but when the papers come back, you'll see that you actually got a good grade."

Yuri sighed. "But that's not always the case, r-right?"

"Well . . . no, it's not," Naoki admitted, sighing as well.

All around them, hues of red began creeping in as the sun started descending. Yuri looked around at her grandmother's well-tended garden, taking in the green grass, the pruned shrubs, and the single tree that stood over everything else, its leaves decreasing in number as autumn endured. On a better day, such imagery would have provided her inspiration for some poetry, but she was making lines of a different kind nowadays.

When the silence had stretched on for a bit too long, Naoki stood up. "Well, I have to go," he said. "We still have some last reviewing left to do, am I right?"

That brought Yuri crashing back down to earth. Somehow, the short minutes she spent with Naoki helped provide a distraction from her worries, something she didn't immediately notice. "T-Thank you for coming over, Naoki. I appreciate your company—and your concern too," she said, standing up as well.

"It was nothing," said Naoki, grinning. "Just tell me w—"

The smile on his face suddenly vanished as his brow furrowed. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at her arm.

Yuri looked down, wondering what he was looking at. Her eyes widened in shock, however, when she saw that there were faint bloodstains in the shape of lines on the fabric of her sleeve. They weren't that many to begin with, but given that her shirt was pure white, their dark red color stood out glaringly.

"I-It's nothing!" Yuri cried out, quickly covering the stains with her right hand. "They're just stains f-from some ink that I have upstairs!"

Naoki frowned. "I see," he said. But before he could say anything else, Yuri cut across him.

"I-I have to go!" she blurted out, her face burning up as she bowed her head.

Without waiting for a reply, she went full-tilt back inside the house, closing the door hastily behind her. Instead of immediately going up to her room, though, Yuri pressed her back against the front door, as if Naoki would come in at any moment to break it down and ask her again about what he saw. She cursed her involuntary reaction earlier—surely it was the way she grabbed at her forearm so suddenly that caused her scars to split open and leak a little blood onto her sleeve. She had done so before many times, but of course, that was when she had no fresh scars to worry about.

Carefully, as if any move she made might alert anyone to her presence, Yuri peered over her shoulder, breathing shallowly. Naoki could still be outside for all she knew, and there would be no doubt that he found the stains he saw odd, even with the feeble excuse she gave in an effort to cover them up. It was all in vain. No matter what, from now on, Naoki would definitely have an idea as to what exactly she was up to—or at the very least, he would sense that something was up. His perception of her was bound to be affected.

_It had to be him. It just had to be him. What am I going to do now? _Yuri's heart felt as if it would tear free from her chest at any moment. She panted, her breath growing shorter with every passing second. Pressing a hand against her heart, she began to feel utterly dizzy. In her agitated state, as best as she could manage, she made her way back to her room upstairs. Wringing her hands together to the point where her fingers felt as if they would break, she hastily closed the door and sat down on her bed, looking at the bloodstains on her arm once again. She didn't dare to look at her phone or outside the window, sensing that Naoki might not have left yet. This time, no impending exam or quiz held any more fear for her; Naoki's changed perception of her was what made her anxiety skyrocket now.

Yuri stood up and walked towards the drawer where her collection was. It was an optimal time for her Damascus steel knife to begin its work. As dirty as she felt, there was no other way.

* * *

Naoki closed the door of his room in silence. Setting aside his backpack on a nearby chair, he took off his eyeglasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. He knew that there was still work to be done indeed for tonight. A quick dinner, and then it would be crunch time for the last day of the exams.

Or that was the original plan anyway, before what he saw at Yuri's place made him think.

_Ink stains. _Naoki mused on that thought, but he couldn't just settle for it as simple as that. For one thing, Yuri's reaction had been extremely sudden and eccentric, even as Naoki knew that she can be rather abrupt in certain situations whenever she speaks her mind or overly worries about what she might have said or done. For another, the stains themselves looked remarkably like blood; both from experience—with rough sports games or little accidents at home—and from some of the rougher fights Kenta had gotten into at middle school with him and Daisuke as witnesses, Naoki knew what blood looked like against fabric.

Perhaps Yuri had indeed been using red ink and got some accidentally on her sleeve. Perhaps she had an accident with one of the knives from her collection while she was cleaning them. Perhaps those were different stains altogether—essential oils, possibly. But through it all, Naoki kept sensing that something was just off. Yuri was definitely the type of person that would get agitated when asked about certain things, but her agitation for the past few days was different, even for her, and it had taken a huge leap after he noticed those curious little red stains. Inwardly, he felt bad that he might have worsened Yuri's day after all by coming over, and he couldn't help but be worried.

As the evening continued on, Naoki found himself focusing on too many things at once. He ate his dinner with a distracted gaze, often missing the food that he was putting into his mouth. His mother, who seemed to have noticed this, set down her chopsticks and looked at him concernedly from across the table.

"Is something bothering you, Naoki?" she asked.

Naoki looked up, sighing. "Just the exams tomorrow, Mom," he lied.

"Oh, that explains it," said his mother. "Are you straining yourself again?"

"Not really," replied Naoki. "It's just one of those days, you know?"

His mother scoffed a little. "It's why I keep telling you to go out and have some fun every once in a while. I know that you're working hard for that high school diploma and, eventually, for college. Still, it's not a crime to take a break from school, you know? Besides, your grades have always been fine."

Naoki shook his head, laughing a little. "Sometimes, you just remind me of my buddies, Mom. Don't worry, I know that. There are just some things that I can't stop thinking about sometimes."

"Like that classmate you've told us about before?" asked his mother, raising her eyebrows. "That Hoshino girl?"

"You could at least say her name, Mom," said Naoki. "It's Yuri."

"If memory serves me correctly, she's the one who gave you some of those books in your room, right?" she asked.

"Yes, Mom," said Naoki, sighing as he knew what was coming.

His mother shrugged. "Right, well, it's a bit of a surprise, isn't it? I mean, you don't even go out that much, even with your friends, and suddenly you have a girlfriend who—"

"Mom, I'll tell you what I told Kenta and Daisuke before—she's not my girlfriend, okay?" said Naoki. Even as he said those words, though, he imagined the profoundly intimate relationship he had with Yuri. "At least, I wouldn't call it that. I mean, we did go out a few times before, but—"

"In this day and age, 'going out a few times' can translate into already having a girlfriend or boyfriend," his mother stated. "Very different from the time when your father and I were young, let me tell you. There's nothing wrong with that, though. On the contrary, I'm happy that you've found a girl that you wish to date and all that."

Naoki shook his head. "Whatever you say, Mom," he said amusedly.

Later that night, rifling through the pages of his notes and comparing them to some paragraphs in his school books, Naoki still could not get the worry out of his head. Granted, he was doing well enough at blocking it out for now so he can focus to the task at hand, but it lingered still at the back of his mind. Obviously, texting Yuri to check on her was out of the question—she might also be reviewing, or perhaps she did not want to be disturbed, not after what happened earlier. Compounding this, Naoki also began pondering on what would follow once the exams were over. Would Yuri start feeling better? Would today's events affect the approaching get-together that Monika and Kenta were planning for everyone? Would they force Yuri to back out from coming along?

Running his hand through his hair, Naoki let out a resigned sigh, knowing that he would just have to wait and see.

* * *

As she watched the blood trickle down from her arm to mar the smooth porcelain surface of the bathroom's sink, Yuri felt much better. After all, wasn't it always like that? A quick cut, breathe, another swipe, breathe, rinse and repeat. It seemed systematic now, as if she was doing something as routine as brushing her teeth or washing her face. The steel was always a shock at first because of how cold it was, but when the pain started searing and drowned out that metallic chill, no sensation seemed to match the relief it gave. To Yuri, it felt as if she was doing things right, keeping them under control.

Dinner passed by without much incident. Yuri had done her best to bandage her arm tightly to prevent a rehash of what happened earlier with Naoki, even if she knew that her grandmother's eyesight was no longer good enough for her to spot a hint of her scars. Instead of eating quite a bit, she had focused on drinking water instead, as her stomach felt like it would not be able to keep any eaten food down for too long.

When the time for reviewing came, Yuri did her best to focus, to direct her worry towards her books and notebooks. No more oolong tea or diffused aromas for tonight; after Naoki's visit earlier, they only reminded her of things that she did not want to think about. Still, no matter how hard she tried, the anxiety never left. It lingered, like a dog scratching against a house's door, or like leftover malaise from a fever.

Now, here she was. Yuri took a deep breath, staring at her forearm. The lines glistened under the bathroom's light. Definitely not the first ones, and definitely not the last.

_No other way._


	34. Chapter 34 - Answering to Authority

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR – ANSWERING TO AUTHORITY (MoniKenta)**

Monika wiped the sweat from her brow with a face towel, her breath misting in the chilly morning air. The arboretum was only starting to stir as dawn broke, and given that it was a Sunday, there were even fewer people about as most chose to wake up late instead of going about. The autumn chill helped add to the comfort of waking up in one's bed, lulling the body into an extra hour or two of sleep, but Monika had decided that it was a good time to get physical. As she checked the time on her cellphone, which was tucked neatly in the jogging belt that she wore around her waist, the clock showed fifteen minutes before seven. Kenta had been gracious enough to agree to such an early morning jog, as he admitted that he usually did his Sunday jogging at around eight. Still, partly due to Monika's request and partly because they had no schoolwork to worry about now that the exams were done, he had agreed to jog a bit earlier so that the two of them could meet at the arboretum.

As she looked around at the arboretum's sights, Monika wondered how long it had been since she had gone for an early morning jog around town. Her fitness routines often involved things that she could do at home—aerobics, push-ups, jumping jacks, those kinds of routines. The house also had a treadmill that she could use, as well as simple weights and other similar apparatuses, but there was always something refreshing and fulfilling about going outdoors for an hour-long brisk walk or jog. Staring at the tranquil-looking trees and well-tended shrubs in the arboretum that bore the marks of autumn, and the nearby gazebo standing like a beacon of beauty with koi teeming in the pond at its feet, Monika knew that this kind of genteel beauty lent its vigor to those who ventured out of doors for an exercise.

When Kenta arrived, he was huffing and puffing as he jogged lightly towards her. Monika waved at him as he approached, and he waved back.

"Sorry if I showed up a bit late," he said, sitting down on the bench next to her. He breathed deeply. "I ran through the last bit of my jog on the way here."

"No worries. You didn't take that long. I hope you didn't strain yourself," Monika told him, smiling.

"Nah, I didn't, don't worry," Kenta assured her, smiling back. "Y-You look, er . . . really good, by the way."

Monika laughed, looking down at the outfit she had worn for her jog: jogging pants, a jacket over a plain shirt, and her running shoes. "You might only be saying that because this is the first time you've seen me wearing this kind of attire. Besides, you also look good, you know?"

Now it was Kenta's turn to look down at his own attire, which was not that different from Monika's; there was no point in dressing for something other than to stave off the cold while jogging. He shrugged. "Can't sweat too much and have it dry out in the cold, right? I've gotten sick a couple of times in the past because of that."

"I know what you mean," said Monika. "Anyway, I'm sorry for not being able to talk to you too much for the past few days. Apart from the exams, well . . ."

"Nah, that's totally fine with me," said Kenta.

For a while, the two of them looked around the arboretum again, taking in the sights in silence. The two of them had already talked to one another about the exams, so there seemed little point in making small talk about such a thing. Monika sensed that they could at least start talking about the next get-together they were planning, but she knew that her revelation to Kenta would be the more pressing thought in his mind right now.

Kenta proved so when he asked, "So . . . your parents. How are they?"

Monika sighed. "Well, I did tell you how excited and nervous it got me when I heard they'll be coming home," she replied, "but when they actually did, I forgot what I was excited or nervous about."

"How come?"

"It's like they're not even there. I mean, don't get me wrong, the house got a bit livelier now that they're back and the rest of the household staff are also around, but . . . it's still all about the family business."

"Did you ever try talking to them?"

"Yeah, but it's a bit difficult to pull off. Dad always shuts himself in his room, poring over his laptop, talking to his clients and associates when he's not watching television. Mom's the only one who makes the slightest bit of effort to talk to me, but even then it's mostly cellphone calls with her friends around here and other clients too. Mealtimes are the only instances when I can talk to them a bit properly."

"Well, better than nothing, I guess," said Kenta.

"Yes, but you can feel how _awkward_ it gets sometimes," said Monika with a short laugh. "It's like we're complete strangers, you know? Everything's so formal that it's almost funny. I don't think they'll care about the school fire weeks back even if I mentioned it to them."

She stared around at the trees in the arboretum, sighing once more. Some birds flocked from one towering tree to another, their songs adding a vibrant feel to the cold atmosphere. Monika envied how free they seemed to be. "I'm sorry if I didn't tell you right away about the aftermath of their homecoming," she went on. "I was worried that you might get distracted from studying for the exams."

"I understand," said Kenta. "Besides, if you talked to me about them, it wouldn't have been a problem for me. I could always spare some time for . . . f-for you."

"Thank you," said Monika, giving him a sweet smile. She inched closer to where he was sitting and rested her head on his shoulder. Kenta shifted anxiously in his seat, but he didn't move away. Monika felt a little amused at how cute he always was whenever they did something like holding hands or cuddling. To be fair, even she felt a bit nervous and shy whenever she did such things, but she never showed so. For a long while, the two of them simply observed the arboretum, reminiscing about their first trip here together back when they had not known each other that well just yet.

"Just give them some time," Kenta said after a while. "Your folks, I mean. Maybe they just need some time to sort things out, and after that they'll be back to normal."

Monika laughed softly. "How they're acting right now is the kind of 'normal' I've gotten used to," she said. "But yes, I guess you're right. They did mention that they had one project to take care of here in town. That means that they'll be around for a while—maybe long enough for something to change, hopefully."

"Something will," said Kenta reassuringly. "We'll just have to trust things to go where they should! I mean, life can sometimes make us feel that we're . . . predestined to go down this one route or no route at all, and sometimes we feel that we don't have a choice in how things turn out, but that's not always the case, right?"

As always, there was something uplifting and endearing about Kenta's way of speaking about such things that Monika appreciated. "Thank you for that, Kenta. I'll keep those words in mind whenever I start doubting things, I promise."

"Ah, it's nothing," said Kenta as he blushed slightly. "Anyway, do you wanna go and eat breakfast somewhere, or are you gonna go home and eat there with your folks?"

"Hmm. . . Well, to be honest, no matter what I do, they won't mind," replied Monika. She looked to him once again and smiled. "Lead the way."

* * *

The next day, as Monika went down the stairs on her way to a quick breakfast before school, she saw that her mother had gotten up early. She was seated at her end of the dining table, taking quaint sips from a cup of coffee. She was clad in a fluffy bathrobe that covered her nightgown and made her silhouette seem larger than it actually was in the morning light. In the nearby kitchen area, the smell of freshly cooked eggs and bacon wafted from the stove, though Monika would be having none of that; as a vegetarian, her breakfast usually consisted of foods like oatmeal, wheat bread with low-fat cheese, or French toast.

As she approached the table, her mother beseeched her with those emerald eyes that she had inherited from her. "Good morning, Mom," Monika said politely as she sat down at her place on the table.

"Good morning," her mother greeted back. A short silence fell between them, punctuated only by the sounds of sizzling pans and running water as Mrs. Fujita and a maid cooked in the kitchen area. Granted, it might be too early to talk about anything, but Monika knew that this kind of silence usually prevailed whenever she was in the same room with her parents regardless of the time of day. Even when the food was finally laid out before them, no one spoke up.

This time, rather unexpectedly, her mother broke the silence first as they broke their fast. "Your father should be up at any minute. He did sleep late last night, talking to the firm and all. Anyway, there's something important that we've been meaning to talk to you about."

Now Monika was genuinely surprised. "What is it?"

There was a pause before her mother replied. Monika was reminded of how she herself would do such a thing to gather her thoughts before speaking. "Well, I was going to wait until your father woke up so we could tell you together, but he might take a bit too long waking up. The thing is . . . we're planning on relocating for good."

The words hung between them like an unseen veil. Once again, only noises from the kitchen area prevailed, though Monika was sure that Mrs. Fujita and the maid were somehow listening.

"Relocating?" Monika repeated, digesting the meaning of what her mother had said. "You mean . . . a new office?"

"Yes," her mother replied simply after another sip of coffee. "Your father has been planning it for quite a while. He wants to set up in Osaka. Of course, we'll still be traveling to other prefectures to oversee any projects we have outside of the city, but at least we'll have a second office to retreat to other than the one we have in Tohoku."

Monika nodded absently, remembering how her parents stayed in rented townhouses in other prefectures that were often far from their office in Tohoku as they made business with their clients. It made sense for her father to want to cover a bit more ground by establishing an office in Osaka.

"Well, that's good, I guess," she said, unsure of what to say.

"That's not all," her mother went on. "We're also considering moving there."

Monika always marveled at how her mother spoke with that formal, almost indifferent kind of composure, the kind that both belied and accentuated a statement's effect at the same time. She set down the piece of French toast that she had been eating and looked at her mother directly, frowning a little.

"Move? That's, um . . ." For her entire life thus far, Monika had always called this place and this little city in Kanto her home. Apart from some ventures into the other nearby prefectures with her parents back when she was younger and things were a lot simpler, she had never gone too far from the region. As such, the thought of relocating to a new home in Osaka was an alien prospect to her.

"I know. It's a bit of a surprise, isn't it?" said her mother.

"'A bit of a surprise'? Mom, that's a shock more than anything," said Monika. "When did you and Dad plan for that?"

"Last month," replied her mother. "Well, not quite exactly, because we've been thinking about this for a long time now, even before last month," she added, "but that was when we actually started laying down plans to make it happen."

Monika looked outside one of the house's windows, staring at nothing in particular as she took in what her mother was saying. The hectic schedule that exam week put her through had already been riveting enough, and she was thankful for the reprieve she got once the exams were over. Now, however, it felt as if the world began entering another fast-paced state with her mother's revelation, one that she was never ready for.

"I . . . I don't know what to say, frankly," she managed to say after a while.

"Well, at least you'll have the rest of the day to think about it," said her mother, spearing some egg on her plate with her fork. "I'll just tell your father that you already know. Better than keeping you in the dark for a while longer, that's for sure."

Again, Monika glanced outside, wondering just how much would change in her world from here on out. "Y-Yes, I suppose. . ."

* * *

Kenta frowned, thinking as he stared at his phone. Monika rarely texted him during class hours—she often chose to do so during lunchbreaks or just before her after-school club meetings. At first, he surmised that Monika had some free time and was checking on him, but her message seemed like a portent of something unpromising.

"_there's something i need to tell you about. let's talk after school. are you okay with that? it's pretty important…_"

For a while, after sending Monika a quick reply telling her that he was all for talking to her after school, Kenta wondered what she seemed worried about. Monika was never the type to mess around whenever something was up—she would say things directly and honestly, even when there was a bit of understandable hesitancy involved. Her text merely reinforced the fact that she trusted him enough to tell her about such things, and Kenta always prided himself over that simple fact. As a follow-up check, he had sent another text asking her if something was wrong, but no reply came.

It was during a time like this when Kenta would turn to ask his buddies for help, but somehow he sensed that they had things to worry about as well. Naoki, in particular, had expressed a bit of concern more than once about Yuri, who did seem to be a little out of it nowadays; Kenta noticed how distracted she seemed to be in class, though there were admittedly moments when she had appeared so in the past. Daisuke, on the other hand, now seemed even keener on accompanying Natsuki as frequently as their time together would allow, and thus rarely had lunch with the two of them nowadays. Akihiro, meanwhile, had Sayori to be with, and Kenta saw no point in bothering him right now.

To his slight surprise, Monika showed up almost immediately after classes had ended, meeting him next to the school entrance. He had expected her to take around a quarter of an hour or more to meet with her fellows in the debate club before going down to meet with him. He surmised that whatever she wanted to talk to him about must be important indeed.

"Hello," she said, smiling. "I told the club that I wouldn't be joining the meeting today, so I managed to show up earlier."

"Is that gonna be okay with your club members?" asked Kenta.

"Yes. Besides, there's not a lot to be tackled for us anyway. Only Takeo says otherwise, since he's the one who likes setting up these meetings," she replied. "He asked me why I planned to forego the meeting today, but I told him that I needed to take care of something important, and that whatever needed discussing can always wait for one more day."

Kenta frowned. "I hope he didn't give you any trouble."

"Not really, but he was a bit insistent," said Monika. "He—"

"Monika."

Stopping at this interruption, Kenta and Monika turned around to see Takeo standing at the school doors, looking right at them. His handsome face was impassive, but there was a mutinous gleam in his pale blue eyes. Kenta stood a bit straighter, glaring at him, but Takeo only had eyes for Monika.

"Takeo, what are you doing down here?" Monika asked, surprised.

Instead of answering her question, Takeo said, "So this is what you meant by 'something important,' hmm?"

Kenta bristled, but Monika spoke up before he could. "It's not what you think, Takeo. There's just something that Kenta and I need to talk about."

"Something bigger than the club? I see," said Takeo, walking down the school entrance's steps to move closer to them. "You could've at least been honest with us, Monika. Granted, we didn't expect you to skip a meeting for your friend here, but I did say that it was bound to happen."

"Takeo, we don't _need _a meeting already," said Monika sternly. "The exams have just been finished. Everyone deserves a day or two to regain their bearings before we get back on track with whatever plans we have."

"You already said that when you told me to cut the club some slack _before _the exams, and I was gracious enough to agree in the end," said Takeo shortly. "However, our professors are going to be expecting us to continue working shortly. The nationals are a couple of months away, and with Christmas break cutting off some valuable time, that means we'll have to make do with every single day we're given."

"One more day, Takeo," Monika sighed. "_Just one more day_, and then we can discuss whatever you want to discuss tomorrow. There's a lot on my mind right now, and I don't want to focus on the club when I might get distracted by them."

"Seems to me like you're already distracted enough," Takeo mused, glancing at Kenta.

"Easy, dolt," Kenta growled. "You're already bugging me enough as it is. Don't say anything that might get you hurt."

"Kenta, please," said Monika firmly. She turned back to Takeo and repeated, "One more day, Takeo. That's all I'm asking."

Takeo sighed, glancing from her to Kenta, who stood his ground and glared back dangerously. There were students and even teachers around, but Kenta didn't care; one wayward remark from Takeo and he would be more than willing to throw down and teach him a lesson.

"Alright, one day," Takeo relented. "Just so you know, Monika, I have to let the club know about all this. They do deserve the truth from their leaders, after all. But you won't have to worry—I'll just reiterate what you said about needing to take care of something . . . _important_," he added, side-eyeing Kenta with the faintest of sneers.

Monika heaved a sigh of relief, though Kenta was still seething. "Thank you, Takeo," she said.

"It's nothing," said Takeo haughtily. "Besides, it's very likely that we'll talk again soon, so. . ."

With that, without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode back inside, leaving the two of them staring after him. Kenta turned to Monika and asked, "What did he mean by talking again to you soon?"

"Maybe he means tomorrow at the meeting," Monika mused. "Anyway, please don't pick a fight with him, Kenta. I don't want you to get into trouble, even if he's sometimes more trouble than he's worth."

"Oh, I try, Monika," Kenta grimaced, "I definitely do, believe me. He just gets on my nerves really quick especially with the way he talks, like I'm some sort of distraction to you all the time." He sighed, shaking his head. "Then, again, maybe I am."

"No, you're not," Monika told him firmly.

"I know, I know," said Kenta as the two of them made their way to the gates. "It's just that he might not be the only one who thinks so. Like, my buddies are different—they tease me about you and all—but I heard that there are a few who don't actually seem too happy that you're hanging out with me of all people. Wonder Boy Takeo is not the only one who thinks so, it looks like."

"What I do and don't do is all on me, and I don't care anymore about what they think, because that's their problem," said Monika. "It's no one's fault, and no one has the right to tell me who I should be with. Don't listen to them, okay? I'm happy being with you like this."

Kenta sighed. "Alright, alright. I'll keep that in mind."

Monika smiled briefly, the expression quickly giving way to a look of tiredness. "Come on. Let's find someplace we can hang around before I tell you everything."

"Oh, right," said Kenta, remembering what was at hand. "Where do you wanna go?"

"The_ Connection_?" asked Monika.

"Sure thing," said Kenta. "Lead the way."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them were comfortably seated at the _Cocoa Connection_, discussing things over a latte, a glass of coffee jelly and some cheesecake. It reminded Kenta of the time they spent together long ago, back when he and Monika were still just casual friends. It was amazing how much had changed since then, and there was no doubt that there were more changes to come.

Unbeknownst to him, such changes would happen right now.

"Wait, let me just make sure I heard that right," said Kenta, frowning. "You're . . . moving away?"

"Not immediately," Monika said hastily. "Mom just told me about it earlier this morning. She and Dad are planning to set up an office in Osaka, and they're also looking to move there permanently too. It's . . . I know it's kind of ridiculous because it just came out of nowhere. That's how I felt about it, too."

"Yeah, it really is something," said Kenta, plopping back against his seat as he took in what she had just said. "I mean, Osaka, that's . . . that's pretty far."

"Three hours max if you take a train from here to there," said Monika, toying with a piece of cheesecake on her platter. "Yes, it's rather far."

Kenta nodded, circling his spoon around his glass of coffee jelly. Field trips back in middle school had taken them to certain rural areas of the other prefectures in Kanto, but never outside it. With that said, he had no idea what it would be like to venture outside of the region to visit places like Osaka. Only his father had visited other regions as his work took him through Japan, ending at Okinawa where he had now been staying for a long time now.

"Did your mom tell you when you might be moving out?" he asked.

Monika shook her head. "I doubt they're even sure about it all. I mean, they did say they were planning it already, but who knows?"

"Well, if they were planning, it means they're gonna make it happen eventually," Kenta mused quietly.

Monika leaned closer to him. "Kenta . . . I know what you're thinking."

"Really?" asked Kenta. "What is it, then?"

She held his hand. "You're thinking that when that time comes, I'm gonna be leaving you all for good."

Kenta sighed. "Can't lie about that."

"Don't worry about that too much," she told him, squeezing his hand gently. "I'm not all for it, either—moving out just feels . . . off, you know? And everything's happening so fast all of a sudden that I don't even have time to react properly to it."

"Yeah, I guess," Kenta muttered. "I'm just worried that when you move out, well, things won't be . . . w-won't be the same anymore."

"I know. I feel that way, too. But hey, maybe it's not going to happen, right? I mean, Mom and Dad have already been letting me live alone for a long time now, so what's wrong with me staying here with you and our friends? Besides, I can take care of myself perfectly well, and I've got Mr. and Mrs. Fujita and the other helpers at our house with me. I don't need to follow Mom and Dad to Osaka."

"Yeah, but what if they want you to study there?" Kenta offered. "What if Osaka is where they're gonna take you for college? There aren't a lot of big-time universities around here, so they might consider enrolling you there or in other prefectures, at least. There's no way that you're not gonna go then, right?"

"Kenta, you're starting to worry about this more than I am," said Monika, smiling a little. "Nothing is final yet, okay? We don't know what the future has in store, and while it's possible that what you said will happen, it's also possible that it won't. Either way, we'll just have to wait and see. Don't worry about it too much for now, alright?"

Kenta said nothing. In his mind, he kept picturing this inevitable day when Monika would be leaving town for Osaka, the day when she would no longer be around to make his days brighter. Granted, he knew that he should have seen this coming once they graduated high school and entered college, but that was still around a couple of years from now; this new development could potentially change that. Right now, the only thing that offered him some respite from his anxiousness was Monika's reassuring presence, and the warm feel of her hand curled around his.

"Alright, I won't," said Kenta at last, managing a short laugh. "Sorry about that. I often tell people not to sweat over small stuff but here I am, doing just that."

"That's understandable, because this isn't exactly 'small stuff' anyway," said Monika amiably, "but we shouldn't let it get to us too much this early. Let's just enjoy everything for now, okay?"

As she said those words, she squeezed his hand a bit tighter. Kenta drank his fill of her beautiful eyes, becoming lost in those pools of emerald. In a way, she was right. She was still here, and things were still fine, and that was all he needed.

* * *

When Kenta arrived home later that evening, his mother greeted him in the kitchen with her usual expression: hands on her hips and a shrewd look in her eyes. Kenta sighed deeply, knowing that some sort of remark was coming at his expense.

"You went on a date again, didn't you?" she asked.

"Mom, come on, I just got home!" Kenta groaned as he walked into the kitchen, drawn by the familiar aroma of pork miso. As his mother was all alone cooking, he knew his sister Kanae had not arrived yet. "You always say that whenever I show up a bit late after school!"

"Son, there's no need to hide anything from me," his mother tutted. "If you've already got a girlfriend, then you should just come clean and tell us!"

"And deal with the stuff you and Kanae will be saying for weeks and weeks to come? No thanks," Kenta huffed. He took a peek at the small bowl of pork miso that his mother had just placed on the nearby dinner table, where a bowl of rice, some seasoning and a couple of smaller bowls awaited them. "Are we gonna be eating soon? I'm starving."

"Yes, your sister will be coming home a bit late again," his mother replied, taking off her apron and straightening out the simple brown dress she was wearing. "Let's just eat ahead of her."

"What's she doing?" asked Kenta as he sat down at the table. "Overtime, or going on a date?" he added, chuckling.

"Overtime, of course. As if your sister is the type to go out on dates like you," his mother stated, sitting down with him. As he reached out to get some pork, however, she slapped his hand lightly. "Wash your hands first!"

"Alright, I did go out with a close friend," Kenta remarked mulishly, standing up so he can go to the nearby sink to wash his hands. "But just because I come home late sometimes, it doesn't mean I was out on a date, you know? I could be going somewhere with my buddies, or taking care of extra school stuff."

"Well, just make sure you don't skirt your school duties with these dates, alright?" his mother told him sternly. "Your progress at school is heaven compared to your middle school years."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Kenta grimaced. "What can I say? I'm a changed man."

To others, this kind of banter might seem unconventional given how family conversations usually go, but Kenta knew that his mother's remarks were simply her way of showing that she cares about how his day at school went and what he might be busy with other than academics. It was also the same with his sister, who always liked poking fun at him. Kenta was used to it all, even if he was often peeved by them.

When they were done eating, he cleaned up the table, placing their used dishes on the sink for her mother to wash. He had offered to do the dishwashing for tonight, as Kanae was usually the one who did so, but his mother merely shook her head.

"I'll take care of it," she said, covering some of their leftover rice with a small plate and setting it aside for Kanae later. "Just go on upstairs and do your homework."

"Mom, the exams just got done," said Kenta. "We won't be having any new homework until next week."

"Alright, alright."

For a short while, silence fell in the kitchen, the only sounds being the clink of utensils and dishes and the ripple of running water from the sink's tap. Instead of going upstairs, Kenta decided to hang around the kitchen for a while, drinking some water and exchanging texts with Monika. As he did so, though, he remembered what they talked about earlier.

"Hey, Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Fire away."

Kenta looked at her. "When Dad was made to leave town for his work, when he transferred to Okinawa . . . how did you react to that?"

His mother looked back at him over her shoulder. "Why are you asking me that all of a sudden?"

". . . Nothing, just asking," replied Kenta.

"'Nothing' always means 'something,'" his mother stated.

"Okay, okay, it's something," Kenta mumbled grumpily. "So what's your answer?"

His mother paused for a bit before speaking again. "Well, you already know how I reacted to it, right? I mean, I've been with you and your sister all this time, so you should have an idea already."

"I know, I know," said Kenta, "but . . . that can't be everything, right? I mean, there must be something else you were thinking about that you didn't show me or Kanae."

His mother glanced at him again. "Alright, this is a bit weird for me. You don't usually ask these kinds of things, you know?"

"Well, yeah, considering you and Kanae are usually the ones doing the asking around here, whether it's about me going out on a date or setting the school on fire or something," Kenta grumbled. "Come on, Mom. Just answer the question, please?"

His mother laughed. "Alright, fine," she replied. "Well, you know that I was a bit peeved that your father was going to work well away from us. After all, why should they send him away like that when he was doing perfectly well in Kanto? It would've been fine if he was transferred for good at Yamanashi or Fukushima, but Okinawa?"

Kenta nodded, remembering his mother's initial resentment at his father's employers for the transfer. What followed that was an argument on whether he should resign from work in favor of looking for work in a company that wouldn't boot him out of the prefecture to work someplace as far-flung as Okinawa. Kenta remembered it all too well, given that he and Kanae could not help but hear their parents argue about it during the weeks before their father's departure. After much convincing, some serious nightly debates and constant reassurance that Okinawa was as safe a place as any that their father had been to before, their mother eventually relented. Knowing that his father was willingly doing this all for them, Kenta had developed massive respect for him since then.

"Well, when I finally let it happen, I just constantly reminded your father to take care of himself there," his mother went on. "I mean, who knows what's going to happen to him while he's so far away, right? But knowing your father, he's tougher than he looks. I always remind him to be careful and work hard and all that whenever he calls, even if I know that he's perfectly fine."

"Do you miss having him around?" asked Kenta.

"Of course I do," said his mother without missing a beat. "It's been almost . . . what, two years already, right? And somehow I still hadn't gotten used to him being gone from the house, coming home every night, eating with us and all that. Sometimes, I'm worried that the same thing will happen with your sister eventually, but she always tells me that she won't let herself be thrown off somewhere else in the country just for work."

"Yeah, there's no doubt Kanae's gonna fight to stay here, even if it means resigning from her work," said Kenta, knowing how stalwart his sister can be regarding her decisions. "So, about Dad . . . how do you deal with him not being here?"

"Well, I just accept things and go on my merry way," his mother replied, wiping some dishes dry with a clean cloth. "Things don't always go back to normal, but what can we do? It's not like we can somehow force everything to be as they were before. Times change, that's an inevitable part of everyday life. You won't always agree with it, but there's not a lot you can do about it. You just . . . get on with everything."

Silence followed his mother's reply. Kenta looked down at his hands, staring at nothing in particular, his mind going back to Monika's words earlier at the _Cocoa Connection_. Though he had reassured her that he wouldn't dwell too much on the idea of her moving away, the thought resurfaced once they had gone their separate ways. After all, how could he try to distract himself from it when he would be reminded of it by his father's absence at home? Naturally, there was no confirmation that Monika would be moving away, but the possibility of it happening was enough to keep him slightly on edge.

"This is about a girl, isn't it?" his mother asked suddenly, and not unkindly. Kenta looked up to see that she was done with the dishes.

He heaved a sigh. "Must've been obvious from the start, right?"

"Ever since you started saving money, I knew it was a girl," she replied, a soft smile crossing her lips. "So what happened this time?"

"Well, I didn't get rejected this time around, so you should be proud of me for that," said Kenta jokingly, though he sobered up as he went on. "She might be moving out of town with her parents, that's all.

He watched as the smile on her face faded somewhat. He sensed that it was probably because of how somber he looked all of a sudden. "I see," was all she managed to say.

"Yeah," Kenta muttered. Not wanting to be put in the hot seat, he stood up. "Anyway, I'm gonna go upstairs now. I just realized that I haven't even changed out of my uniform yet."

Instead of asking anything more, his mother replied, "Alright, go ahead. I'll just wait for your sister down here."

After he had finished dressing and cleaning up what needed cleaning in his room, Kenta laid down on his bed and stared for a long while at the ceiling. Monika had not texted him yet for the evening, and he wondered whether or not something might be up again at her place. After what she had shared, it was becoming more and more difficult to guess what would happen next, and what else can change between them. He reflected on everything in silence, his mind wandering towards the planned get-together in the effort to deviate even for just a moment from what transpired earlier. Monika had decided to hold off the next get-together until the weekend so that she could focus on what she wanted to prioritize, and Kenta had been more than willing to oblige.

At that moment, as if on cue, his cellphone rang. Kenta quickly sat up and reached for it, expecting to see something from Monika. What he saw, however, was a text message from Akihiro.

"_hey Kenta. i hope i didn't disturb u or anything_"

Kenta sent a quick reply. "_don't worry bro, u didn't. wat's up?_"

"_can i call u real quick?_"

Kenta smiled; for a moment, he had forgotten that he had his friends to lean on when he needed to. After all, though they saw him as their leader along with Monika, he was no different from them, and though he had his own worries to address, he was always ready to help.

"_sure man, go right ahead. wat's it abt?_"

"_i need help. it's about Sayori…_"


	35. Chapter 35 - Shards, All Over The Floor

_A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters._

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE – SHARDS, ALL OVER THE FLOOR (SayoHiro)**

There was no relief more soothing or filling than the feel of putting down one's pencil or pen, standing up and turning in one's test paper to cap off exam week. It was this kind of euphoria that flooded Akihiro as he walked over to the front desk of the classroom so he could hand in his Moral Studies test paper and say adieu to the exams. With an effort not to whoop in delight, he packed up his things and left the classroom, having been given the liberty of leaving the room early once they were done as long as no noise was made to disrupt students who were still busy answering.

In Akihiro's mind, exam week and the one leading up to it had felt like a long, gruesome RPG grind. It was a tedious process, surely, but also a necessary one. Elsewise, he would never hear the end of it if he failed the exams this early into the academic year—after all, there were still two more batches of exams to go in future months before everyone can call it a year. As he looked back, he measured his grind-like efforts and found that they were adequate enough; he had definitely passed everything on good to excellent levels except for Math and Science, which were on the lower bracket as their equations had proven too tricky to all get right. Still, Akihiro was confident that he had scraped at least a C for both.

Along the corridor, students who had managed to also finish their exams early passed by, going out and about as they waited for their friends or went home early. Akihiro felt excited at the weekend that awaited him, a weekend where he could slack around and play games to take advantage of the lack of schoolwork. Most importantly, though, he was now free to get back on track with Sayori.

When the afterglow of their get-together with Monika, Kenta and the rest of the gang had died down, the stress of the exams soon returned in force, but no one seemed to bear the brunt of it more seriously than Sayori did. The last time that Akihiro had managed to talk to her properly was last week, right before everyone began settling down in order to focus on reviewing for the exams. Sayori had felt nervous then, admitting that reviewing was going to be tough, but in spite of Akihiro's offer to study with her, she had insisted on going about it all alone. Akihiro sensed that she was avoiding him then because she didn't want to distract him from reviewing; in a way, she was right, though he imagined that he himself could also be a distraction to her. In the end, he agreed to what she wanted, using her absence to fuel his anticipation at being with her once again after the exams were done.

It was with this same anticipation that Akihiro texted Sayori. Of course, he wasn't expecting a quick reply as she might still be busy answering, but he could always wait. "_exams = done. gonna go home now, hit me up if u want to go out later, ok? take care!_"

Upon arriving home, Akihiro cleaned up whatever needed cleaning and set aside his school things, ready to take on a long-delayed gaming session with gusto—at least until Sayori texted him back about going out later for the evening, in which case he would be more than willing to call the session off and be with her. In the meantime, he booted up his computer and started his game.

An hour into his session, there was still no reply from Sayori. Every now and then, he would put his game on hold to check if she was online, but he saw nothing. Initially, Akihiro decided to let her be, musing that she might be resting or napping, or that she had gone out with some of her classmates to celebrate the end of the exams before going home. Anything that would brighten up Sayori's day after the stress of cramming for weeks and answering those test papers for the past few days was fine in his book.

Two hours later, however, Akihiro began to worry. His cellphone remained silent as ever, and going online provided him with only more questions and anxiety. He glanced outside through his room's windows and saw the faint reddish hue of the sunset creeping in. Now feeling too worried to continue playing, Akihiro saved his game, grabbed his phone and sent a text to Sayori once more. For good measure, he went back online and sent a quick chat message to her as well.

Still, nothing came, and with that Akihiro made up his mind. Grabbing his jacket, he draped it over the simple white shirt he was wearing, donned his sneakers, and left his apartment to go to Sayori's place. So as not to catch her off guard, he sent yet another text informing her of his arrival.

The sight of people walking down the street and the other tenants at Sayori's apartment eased the tension a bit. While walking to where he needed to go, he had begun to feel that he was all alone, as if he was feeling Sayori's absence more palpably than ever. Akihiro swallowed nervously. Somehow, there was a creeping feeling at the back of his mind, telling him that what he was doing right now felt rather off, as if Sayori was a stranger or a casual friend that he was visiting for the first time. Upon reaching her front door, he held out his fist rather hesitantly and knocked two quick times.

"Sayori?" he called out. "It's me."

No answer. Akihiro knocked again, a bit more insistently this time. "Sayori? Are you in there?"

Still, there was no answer that greeted his call. Only the ambient noises of the apartment could be heard, piercing the white noise that seemed to be magnified around him all of a sudden. He was about to knock on the door a third time when he heard something from inside the unit. _So she's home after all._

"Sayori? Come on, I know you're in there," he called out. "Are you okay? Can I come in?"

Of course, Akihiro knew that unless an actual emergency was involved, he knew better than to barge into someone's place, even if it was Sayori's. He waited patiently for an answer, punctuating the silence with an attempt to coax her out of her unit. "If you want, we can eat someplace downtown to celebrate the exams being over, how about that? You can pick wherever you wanna go, and it'll be fine by me!"

Silence. No reply, not even another noise to tell him that Sayori was indeed inside. Akihiro stared at the door for a few silent moments, his worry growing further. Was Sayori feeling really down today, to the point where she cannot even face him properly? As he wondered what might have caused her to feel that way, to his surprise, the door opened a little.

Sayori peeked out from behind it. Akihiro exhaled a sigh of relief, though the feeling did not last as he saw the look on her face. Her blue eyes, often shining with vibrant childlike enthusiasm, looked rather forlorn. Her hair was unadorned and rather unkempt, as if she had just woken up. Akihiro saw that she was still wearing her school uniform.

"Sayori, are you okay?" he asked.

Sayori looked at him and tried to smile, but the expression failed to materialize on her face fully. "I'm sorry for not answering the door right away," she said in a quiet tone. "I'm not f-feeling too well. . ."

"Oh, I see," said Akihiro in turn. "I just thought that you . . . that something was wrong. I sent you some messages, but you weren't replying."

"I know, I'm s-sorry," Sayori repeated glumly. Akihiro could see that her hands were trembling slightly. "After today, I just felt like going home. I didn't want to bother you, so I kinda forgot t-to reply."

"That's alright, no problem. Um, do you need some company? I can stay if you want."

"N-No, you don't have to. You didn't have to come over, y-you know?"

Akihiro smiled comfortingly. "Hey, I did say that whenever you needed me, I'll be there, right? So w-what happened? Is it the exams?"

"Y-Yeah, that's it, I guess. . ." Sayori let out a sigh. "Anyway, if it's okay with you, Akihiro, l-let's just talk tomorrow. I think I need to lie down and r-rest."

"Oh, that's alright, go ahead," said Akihiro, nodding. "I hope you feel better soon. I'm not gonna bother you too much if you don't want me to, but I'll be around to talk. Just hit me up through text or online, okay? I'll reply ASAP."

"S-Sure thing." Again, Sayori attempted to smile at him, and again her lips faltered at it. "Take care on your way home, okay?"

"Thanks. And you take care as well in there, alright?"

"I will. T-Thank you, Akihiro."

During the walk back to his apartment, Akihiro looked up into the sky. The setting sun painted the world around him in hues of orange and red, rousing and calming at the same time. As he looked, he was reminded of how autumn preceded winter, and whether or not what Sayori was going through right now was the autumn that heralded something bleaker in the future.

* * *

Two days later, when Monday arrived, Akihiro's musings had grown into full-blown fears. Sayori did not message him back over the entirety of the weekend, let alone visit him at his place. Even earlier, when the two of them would usually walk to school together, Sayori was nowhere to be found. Initially, he imagined that what she had told him about not feeling well had something to do with stress and a bit of sickness, but the thought that it could also be caused by the uncharacteristic sadness that she felt nowadays lingered at the back of his mind. It was this thought that Akihiro clung to now more than ever.

Though she had admitted to him that she was a bit busy for the day, Monika had replied graciously enough to his text at lunchtime, telling him that Sayori wasn't absent for today and that, contrary to what he was thinking, she seemed perfectly fine and free of any malaise or illness. Monika had been quick to ask as well if something was wrong, but since Akihiro had no idea what was up, he decided to tell her that he was just checking on her as per usual, stating that the two of them didn't manage to meet up over the weekend. Monika didn't ask anything more for now, and he refrained from bothering her any further, given that she was also busy with other things.

As the hours passed, Akihiro tried to focus on something else, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so. Again, he texted Sayori and asked her if she wanted to walk home with him later after school, but just like what happened since last Friday, no reply came from her. Privately, Akihiro was thankful that the exams had just passed; had Sayori started avoiding him _during _exam week, he imagined how difficult it would have been to focus on the tests while also worrying about how she was doing.

Upon arriving home later that day, Akihiro booted up his computer with the intention of playing some games to distract from his anxiousness, but he soon found himself staring at the game's title screen for a full minute. With an exasperated sigh, he exited the game, knowing that there was no way that he could channel his attention to focus on leveling up his characters and progressing in any game right now. He knew that it wasn't the issue of possibly dying and repeating a mission or dungeon all over again from lack of focus that bothered him. Akihiro wanted nothing more than to change his clothes and pay Sayori another visit—and perhaps one of these days he shall do so again—but there were certain thoughts holding him back. Was it reasonable to impose his company upon Sayori? Naturally, she would have something to say about that, but what if she was already feeling so low that she _needed _his company? On the other hand, after Sayori had made it clear in the past that she didn't want to trouble him so much for feeling dejected or lost, would his presence and efforts bring her mood down even further?

Evening came. Being too distracted to cook anything with what he had in his fridge, Akihiro went outside to eat. A nearby diner was his destination, and what he had was simple fare—fried rice with some dumplings and sweet sauce to go with it. With his worries starting to mount further, Akihiro knew he wouldn't be able to keep a lot of food down anyway, not when the thought of eating made him think of Sayori. He prayed that at the very least, whatever she might be feeling right now, she still remembered to eat properly. As much as he wanted to think that she was, Akihiro found it difficult to do so when he realized how much the diner he was in reminded him of his date with Sayori at the _Starlight_. It also hearkened back to the fare they had ordered from Daisuke's family diner during the study session at Monika's house.

That reminded Akihiro of something he had forgotten momentarily—that he didn't need to take on all this alone, and that Monika wasn't the only one he could approach. Taking out his cellphone from his pocket, he sent Kenta a text.

"_hey Kenta. i hope i didn't disturb u or anything_"

Kenta's reply came quickly. "_don't worry bro, u didn't. wat's up?_"

"_can i call u real quick?_"

"_sure man, go right ahead. wat's it abt?_"

Akihiro sighed, looking at his phone's screen, contemplating how he should reply. In the end, he knew that there was no other way to explain better than through a call, but he decided to at least tell Kenta about what to expect.

"_i need help. it's about Sayori…_"

To his slight surprise, his cellphone began ringing not long after he had sent his last text; instead of replying to his message, Kenta had decided to call him. When Akihiro answered the call, he sounded rather concerned.

"Hey, man, what's up? Did something happen?" he asked.

"Well, to be honest, I don't know," said Akihiro with a sigh. For the next few minutes, he explained what had happened with Sayori, starting from the days before the exams to the present day, narrating the similarities between how she currently was and how she acted weeks before when she lashed out at the idea of him coming over to her place. Kenta listened intently from the other end, though he did punctuate Akihiro's explanation a few times to clarify something or to ask about a certain detail.

"You know that this happened before, right?" Akihiro went on. "I'm just really worried that there's something that she's going through right now and . . . well, you know how she is, not wanting me to get bothered and all."

"I know, bro," replied Kenta. "I hope she's doing alright while she's not talking to you."

"Yeah, I hope so, too." Akihiro glanced outside the diner's windows, watching people pass by as the evening grew darker and colder. "Do you think there's something she's not telling me?"

"Well, people always have something that they choose to hide. It's a bit hard to convince them to tell us about these things, since we can't exactly force them to all the time, right? Even if we say that they should tell us because we care for them, there's always something holding them back. I'll admit, back when I wasn't as close to Monika as I am now, I had second thoughts about telling her how I felt about certain things because I was scared about how she'd react."

"But that changed, right?"

"Yeah. With Sayori, I guess that's just . . . that's just how she rolls. I totally get where she's coming from—when people wanna be strong on their own, they tend to hide how they feel. But I think she doesn't realize that there are times when she actually _needs _you around, even if it's just to have someone to lean on."

Akihiro sighed again, running his hand through his hair, gripping at the locks there rather tightly. "Do you think she . . . she doesn't trust me enough?"

Now Kenta sounded rather surprised. "Hey, don't say that, man! I'm a hundred percent sure that Sayori trusts you. You've been best friends since you were kids, right? You've got some solid foundation right there with her, and I don't think her trust in you is bound to go down any time soon, or ever."

Akihiro smiled gratefully at that. "Thanks. I just . . . it might be possible, right? Like, she doesn't trust me enough to tell me how she really feels."

"Dude, she showed you how she feels well enough," said Kenta firmly. "Case in point: that's how you two ended up together, after she showed you how she felt. Don't think for one second that Sayori doesn't have any faith in you to tell you about her feelings and thoughts, alright?"

The confident and reassuring tone in Kenta's voice made it hard to believe otherwise. "Alright, I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, bro," he said appreciatively.

"Don't mention it, brother!" replied Kenta in a jovial tone. "By the way, I talked to Monika earlier, and she said that she might be delaying the next get-together to take care of a few things first, so stay tuned on that. I'll just tell you, Daisuke and Naoki about when it's gonna push through once Monika sorts things out."

"Oh, sure thing!"

"I hope you can convince Sayori to come along for the second time," Kenta continued. "Same goes for Daisuke and Naoki. I hope they can bring Natsuki and Yuri again. After the exams, we could all use a breather."

Akihiro laughed. "You've got that right."

* * *

Inside her apartment unit, Sayori was in shambles.

The stress of the exams and the emptiness that came from it lulled over her head like an executioner's axe just waiting to fall. She had conditioned herself as best as she could to actually score some good marks after the cramming she had done, but her determination faltered and dissipated when exam day arrived. Distracted by her own fears of not being able to do well, she had fumbled with each test. With each half-baked answer that she scribbled onto one test paper after another, Sayori felt more and more useless, and saw that in spite of her best efforts, it would be all for naught.

What felt worse was the aftermath. Watching her friends and classmates comparing answers and feeling hopeful that they had passed the exams with flying colors only served to emphasize how pathetic her efforts were. Naturally, that was hardly their fault, for students often gauged how well or otherwise they did once a particular test or activity was over. Try as she might to ignore hearing them, Sayori always ended up listening in the end, and with each victory her classmates seemed to predict, the voices in her mind laughed at her losses. By the time Friday—the last day of the exams—came, she had all but conceded. Avoiding people afterwards had been a given; Sayori could not bear the idea of looking into their eyes and seeing her own reflection in them, a reflection of failure and disappointment. Even worse would have been the idea of joining their conversations about comparing correct answers and revealing how many she had gotten wrong. People might say that it wasn't over until the test papers returned already graded, but Sayori had already given up on expecting anything grand.

Since that day, her room had felt like a prison where she could languish and rot for all she cared. Even looking outside through the windows made her feel pain, for it made her see a horizon that was filled with hope and joy, a horizon that a failure like her hardly deserved right now. It made going to school hellish, because it served to remind her over and over again of what happened, and yet she knew that there was nothing else she could do about it; even though it was a tempting prospect, not going to school would have more severe consequences, and Sayori was glad that at the very least she wasn't feeling down enough to start contemplating that yet.

Of course, the worst pain was imagining Akihiro's concern and bewilderment at her absence. Sayori terribly missed him, even more so than the first time that she shut herself away from him. The pain that she felt when he visited her last Friday—again, undoubtedly out of concern—was on a whole new level. The moment she had heard the knock on her door, she had begun to panic and contemplate on whether to ignore him or not, but how could she? Try as she might to keep quiet, Akihiro knew that she was at home, and it felt terrible to simply keep quiet and let him leave without ever answering the door. And so, against her will, she opened the door, spoke with him briefly about not feeling well, and retreated before she could break down in front of him. Even if the encounter took only a couple of minutes, Akihiro's face at the time etched itself in her brain, and the voices in her head used it to terrible effect against her.

_You actually lied to his face. I thought you were sincere?_

_You rejected his concern again like it was nothing. Poor Akihiro._

_Did you see how sad he looked before he left? I wonder what he's feeling right now._

_You went for days without talking to him. It's safe to say he won't be happy with that._

"Stop. . . P-Please. . . Stop it. . ." Sayori moaned, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as she sat on her bed. Looking back into the past, she would be lying if she said this kind of episode didn't happen before. After all, unless a student was as good as Monika in terms of studies, there were a lot of moments when failure and disappointment in academics seemed inevitable, and Sayori had her fair share of downers in the past. The problem was that as time passed by, and as she grew up, the failures seemed to echo more resonantly and more lamentably, crippling much of her resolve to the point where her inadequacies far outweighed her capabilities. It had been much simpler back when she was a child—low grades and bad days often passed by quickly enough, even though the memories borne from them lingered at the back of her head. Now, however, they could linger for days, piling up along with other bad memories and giving rise to new ones. For Sayori, every time she felt like this, she remembered every little thing that she might have done wrong, and she wanted nothing more than to keep berating and degrading herself for it all. There was no comfort or rest in store for her; not even her stuffed animals by the window and Mr. Cow at the foot of her bed could provide her any comfort—they only served to remind her of Akihiro.

Quite distantly, she felt her stomach rumble. Sayori sighed, knowing that she could at least get up and make something to eat, but her arms and legs felt like lead. She had refrained from eating too much earlier at school, unable to face her friends or any other people that she would run into. Moreover, anything she might try doing for herself can easily be turned into a sin by the voices in her head. Combining this with everything else she was dealing with, Sayori knew that tomorrow—and potentially every day that would follow afterwards—would be nothing but a cold, empty and pointless chore. The idea of sloughing through each day with this kind of futility and despondence made it feel like a hammer was being smashed against her head over and over again.

Will this ever end? _Can _it ever end? The voices began whispering their answers, though Sayori did not have to listen closely in order to know what they were saying.

* * *

In the middle of the week, the biggest comfort that came for Akihiro was a call from his parents in Tohoku. It felt good to hear from them in the middle of the small crisis that was growing between him and Sayori.

"No, no, you didn't catch me at a bad time, Mom," he assured his mother when he had answered their call. True enough, when his cellphone began ringing for the first time in about a week, he had been doing nothing inside his apartment unit but staring at the ceiling. "How's everything there? How's Dad?"

"Tohoku is growing colder by the day," his mother told him. "Is it the same over there? Anyway, your father's still out, buying some things that we'll need for the seminar we're joining tomorrow. He might take a while."

"I see. It's getting really cold here, too." With Sayori's absence, Akihiro knew that the chill in the air came both literally and figuratively for him. Not for the first time, he wished that his parents were around once again so that, after a gloomy day without sweet Sayori, he would at least have some additional warmth and comfort to come home to.

"Well, don't forget to wear a jacket all the time, okay? Any day now, the autumn rains will come, and before you know it, it'll start snowing."

"Yeah, don't worry, Mom. Anyway, I dunno if I texted you already about this, but we just got done with the exams."

"Oh, really? You didn't tell me about that yet, no. So did you pass with flying colors?"

Akihiro chuckled a little. "We won't know that until they return the test papers, Mom."

"Well, I just hope you didn't spend most of your time playing those video games of yours instead of studying," said his mother firmly.

"Don't worry, Mom, I didn't. Jeez, you sound like Sayori sometimes, you know?"

As soon as he finished saying those words, Akihiro stopped in his tracks, feeling sobered all of a sudden as he remembered Sayori's absence. Oblivious to what he was thinking about, his mother asked, "Oh, that reminds me, how's Sayori? We haven't talked to her parents for a while, not since we started preparing for the seminar."

"She's . . ." Akihiro cleared his throat, trying to distract himself from the images of Sayori languishing alone in her apartment that raced past his mind's eye. "She's doing okay. We also haven't talked much since exam week. She seems to be a bit busy. . ."

The call went on for five more minutes, ending with a promise from his mother that she would be calling again sometime next week. Akihiro looked forward to the call, wondering if things would be back to normal by then. The thought seemed futile in his head, but he clung onto it with the hope that Sayori _will _eventually bounce back from what she was going through.

A faint but lingering wind blew through the trees and streets when Akihiro went outside to eat dinner. The day had gone by on a very quiet note at best, and no matter how hard he tried to think of something to do, he found nothing. A quick session of _Dungeon Delvers _with his new Warlock character after he got home from school had helped, but he had grown tired of it rather quickly. He had been resting on his bed and waiting for his hunger to set in so that he can look for dinner when his mother called, and once the call ended, the evening resumed its silent, empty routine for him.

While walking towards another one of the diners down the street, Akihiro paused as he heard some ambulance sirens wailing faintly behind him. He turned to look around. Indeed, against the darkness of the evening, he could see blue and red lights sparkling alongside the twin beams of a vehicle's headlights as the ambulance approached at full speed. Like some of the other bystanders walking down the street, Akihiro moved closer to the sidewalk to give the vehicle a wide berth to wherever it needed to go. Deafening sirens and the roar of an engine going full tilt resonated powerfully against his eardrums as the ambulance passed by in a flash.

Around ten minutes later, while he was eating in silence inside the diner that he had gone to for tonight, the ambulance returned and sped towards the direction where it came from earlier. It seemed obvious that this time around, it was already carrying a passenger. Akihiro sighed to himself. Life usually went by smoothly in the city, but there were often moments when something would remind him and everyone else of its sobering unpredictability. The fire that broke out at school weeks ago, this ambulance carrying someone to the hospital, and Sayori's current predicament were examples of that.

But of course, as the age-old adage goes, life goes on. There was nothing to do but to cling onto the hope for a better tomorrow. After all, who's to say that spring no longer comes after winter, or that dusk will not give way to dawn?

* * *

It was the loud shouts down the hallway that startled Sayori from her reverie. A rush of footfalls outside her unit's door told her that some people were racing through the hall, their voices raised. Rising from her bed, Sayori ran towards the door and opened it slightly, peeking down the hallway.

She recognized some of the tenants that shared the floor with her—the kind man who lived with his wife two doors down and the single mother who occupied one of the upstairs flats, for instance—running towards one of the units further at the end of the hallway. "Call an ambulance!" one tenant shouted, but one tenant was already way ahead of him, calling for emergency help on her mobile phone.

For a moment, Sayori shared their panic; was it not always so when a potentially dire situation was taking place? Unable to stop herself, temporarily forgetting her own dismal mood, she went outside of her unit and walked gingerly towards the scene down the hallway. Once she was as close as she dared to go, she called out to the onlooker that stood nearest to her, a bespectacled middle-aged woman who lived downstairs. "E-Excuse me, ma'am. What's happening?" she asked anxiously.

The woman looked shaken, and she seemed to struggle with her own words to describe what was happening. "The woman who lives over at B-34, they said she . . . s-she . . ."

Before the woman could finish what she was trying to say, the door to unit B-34 burst open. Sayori also recognized the person who came out—a thirty-year-old black-haired lady with a thin frame and near-protuberant eyes. She was going hysterical as the other tenants rushed to her.

"Did someone call an ambulance? P-Please!" she cried out shrilly. "My sister m-might not make it!"

"They're on their way, don't worry!" said the tenant who had called for one.

"What happened in there?" asked another urgently.

Breathless with horror, her face stark white, the woman leaned against a nearby wall for support. "I just g-got back from work earlier. The door w-was locked when I arrived, but I knew my sister w-w-was home. She wasn't answering when I knocked, so I went d-downstairs to ask for a spare key f-from the caretaker. W-W-When I got inside, s-she was lying on the f-f-floor. . ."

Unable to continue, the woman burst into frantic tears. It took quite a while before the other tenants managed to calm her down enough before she fainted from shock. Around ten minutes later—in what felt like an eternity to Sayori and the rest of the tenants that were gathered—the caretaker of the apartment came running up the stairs. "The paramedics are here!" he shouted, out of breath. True enough, a small team of four uniformed paramedics quickly raced towards the commotion outside B-34. Sayori quickly shuffled backwards to let them pass, stricken with shock and fear at what was transpiring.

When the medics reemerged several minutes later on a portable stretcher, Sayori caught a glimpse of the woman in question. She was paler than even her horrified sister, her eyes half-closed and glazed, and her mouth and chin shone with faint trickles of liquid that seeped out of the corners of her lips. Onlookers gasped at the sight, and renewed sobs of terror surfaced from her sister. The paramedics carried the woman down the stairs as quickly and carefully as they could, closely followed by the caretaker and the unnerved sister. With that, the commotion in the hallway simmered down; however, that didn't stop certain tenants from asking what exactly had happened. Fearfully curious, Sayori stayed awhile to listen to what they were discussing.

"Did someone attack her?" asked one individual. "A robber o-or something?"

"No, it wasn't a break-in of any sort," replied one of the tenants who had entered the unit earlier with a grim sigh. He wiped his face free of cold sweat with hands that still shook. "When we got in there, she was lying in the bathroom, and there w-were pills all over the floor. It looks like she t-tried to overdose or something."

Gasps of shock and horror followed the man's statement. "You mean s-she tried to . . . ?" His words faltered, but Sayori did not have to guess too hard as to what he had wanted to say.

"But . . . how can that be?" asked another tenant. "I mean, I-I know Miss Kobayashi, and she never looked to me like someone who . . . who w-would . . ."

Sayori looked away, feeling numb. Suicide incidents often punctuated the online world and the daily news, but this was undoubtedly the first time that she had witnessed such a thing in person. Of course, though she was not exactly present when the woman tried to commit suicide, to bear witness to the aftermath as she was being carried out barely alive on a stretcher was haunting enough. She understood the sentiments that the other tenants were now exchanging. Often times, those who commit suicide were the ones that people would least expect to do so, and this instance was no exception.

When Sayori finally managed to make it back inside her unit, the emptiness and despondence that she had been feeling earlier returned with renewed force, now mixed with horror at what had transpired and what kind of new thoughts it left her. With trembling hands, she picked up Mr. Cow at the foot of her bed and embraced her tightly. She knew that for a long while, the images she had just witnessed would be seared into her mind.

Her mind went back to the woman's sister, and she could only imagine the shock and distress she must have felt at seeing a loved one trying to take her own life. On the other hand, that was nothing compared to what could have driven the woman to commit suicide in the first place. On news about suicide, there were a multitude of things that were stated as the culprits: depression, anxiety, sheer stress from work, problems of a crippling magnitude. Even celebrities from across the world weren't safe from these causes, and some have already been pushed enough to take their own lives, their passing creating shockwaves across social media and the rest of the world. The cause of their suicides would be discussed and thought about for weeks to come, just like what the other tenants were doing right now in the wake of the incident at B-34.

Sayori did not like to imagine that what she had might be actual depression. She had never dared to look up what its symptoms would be, though posts about such warning signs were often shared on social media, reminding people to keep their loved ones close and to watch out for those who might be going through a lot. She always saw the same things: a persistent feeling of sadness or emptiness, self-isolation from friends and loved ones, self-harm and suicidal thoughts. Other things were more personal, such as a feeling that there is no more hope for the future, or that one does not deserve happiness, or that one does not belong in the lives of others. As she reflected on these thoughts, Sayori felt more helpless than ever. Going by these musings, does that mean she was suffering from depression?

Does that mean she could end up like that woman from B-34, having no other end in sight except . . . ?

Sayori hugged Mr. Cow tighter, feeling the same kind of fear she felt during her troublesome nightmares. Inside her head, it felt as if the voices had obtained a new weapon to use against her.


	36. Chapter 36 - Distant Relatives

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX – DISTANT RELATIVES (NatSuke)**

When the whistle finally blew and signaled the end of the game, Daisuke whooped as he sat down on the ground, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Their other subjects had mellowed slightly in terms of schoolwork in the wake of the exams, but Physical Education decided to pick up where it left off when their instructor divided the class into four teams that played a game of football each. It was a tiring experience that was made worthwhile with moments that had the teams cheering each other on. Daisuke wanted to think that all the minutes he spent running and handling the ball on the open field contributed to his own team's victory, even though he managed to score none of the three goals that gave them the win.

On another team, Natsuki had performed in similar fashion, her small build giving her the speed necessary to direct the ball away from her opponents and set it up for her teammates to score. Their game, however, had ended in a stalemate at two points apiece when the clock ran out, though everyone agreed that it was a good game. Behind the face mask that she was still wearing, Natsuki's expression seemed unfathomable, though Daisuke knew from the look in her eyes that she had wanted to win.

In the male locker room with the other boys, everyone else began discussing the highlights of the games, causing the place to resonate with raucous laughter and friendly ribbing about who did what and who actually scored goals. Daisuke listened to them amusedly as he washed his face and changed out of his sweaty P.E. shirt. Soon, the talk shifted towards him and his efforts to help his team to a victory.

"Had to admit, you looked like you were gonna trip with the ball during the last minutes of the game, Daisuke!" said one of his friends as the others laughed and nodded in agreement.

"Hey, I was getting caught up, alright? Good thing I managed to make the pass, too. If I didn't, we wouldn't have gotten that clincher," Daisuke told them.

"Were you planning on scoring the win all along?" asked another from the other end of the locker room. "Or were you just planning to impress Natsuki?"

A chorus of cheers and whoops resounded almost deafeningly around the locker room at this question. "Hey, I was just trying to play as best as I could, alright?" said Daisuke lightly. "And that's what Natsuki was trying to do as well."

But naturally, that only served to make the laughter and teasing even louder. Daisuke laughed with them. Being seen almost all the time with Natsuki had sent a wave of signals to everyone else about whether or not they were dating, or if they were actually a couple. He imagined with amusement how Natsuki would react to another such remark—in class, whenever Daisuke was teased about her, she would often distance herself from him with a blush and a scoff, and even he couldn't help but turn red as well even as he laughed things off.

Later at dismissal time, he met up with Natsuki outside the school doors, intending to keep her company in order to make her feel better about any disappointment she might have had from the game. However, Natsuki refused him, though not for the reason he had expected.

"I'm gonna be going to my aunt's," she told him. "I'll be picking up some things and the money she gives me and my dad every month."

"Oh, that's alright," said Daisuke. "Where does she live?"

"On the other side of town, close to the train station. It's gonna be a bit of a walk," Natsuki added with a sigh.

Daisuke looked at her, startled. "Wait, you mean you WALK all the way there?"

"Yeah. I don't have any extra money to take a cab or anything. Well, it's not like this is the first time I walked there, so it's alright."

"But Natsuki, that's pretty far. Do you—"

"_No._" Natsuki glared at him, evidently knowing what he was going to say. "I'll be fine on my own. I don't need you accompanying me there, okay? Besides, if my aunt saw me with you, she might ask more than a few questions."

"Well, I understand, but if you're gonna walk, t-then . . ."

Daisuke stopped, not wanting to add any more to Natsuki's annoyance, but it was difficult to let her be in this kind of situation, given that she already has enough to deal with on her own at home. As always, Natsuki immediately sensed what he wanted to say and do.

"What?" She looked at him petulantly. "D-Do I look like I need help again? Is it because I look so high and dry or something?"

"I'm not saying it in that way, okay?" Daisuke assured her soothingly. "Just . . . if you don't want me to accompany you, just let me give you some money so you can take a taxi, at least."

"But I don't want to take your money just like that," Natsuki stated, looking away from him. "I mean, that's your allowance, and don't forget that I still owe you that manga that I l-lost. . ."

"I know, but I'm alright with it all. In fact, I wish I could . . . do more, you know?"

"You're doing enough. You d-don't have to start giving me money or anything. . ."

"It's just for today, if it's okay with you. Just so you can get a ride to your aunt's place. Besides, we just got done with P.E. for today. You could use some rest instead of walking for twenty minutes to the other side of town."

"Make that fifteen—I'm a fast walker when I'm alone," Natsuki retorted. After a brief pause, she let out a long sigh, her breath hissing through the mask on her face. She looked at him once again, but Daisuke stood his ground this time.

"A-Alright, fine," she relented glumly. "But I'll pay you back for this, okay? I'm not done repaying you for everything you're doing."

"That's okay," said Daisuke, smiling.

* * *

Following Daisuke's wish, Natsuki hailed a taxi that would take her to her aunt's home near the edge of the city, a few blocks away from the train station. It felt rather weird to go there by vehicle instead of on foot, as since she had grown used to walking all the way there for the past couple of years. Given that her father only gave her a very small allowance to get by in a school week, it was hopeless to imagine him actually giving her some money to be able to ride a cab.

In no time at all, she had arrived. It was astonishing how a fifteen-minute walk is so short when taken by vehicle. After paying the cab driver, Natsuki stepped out of the taxi and looked around.

The neighborhood had little difference compared to the one she and her father lived in, although there were more houses around here that had a more rural façade with their timber foundations, wooden walls and clay tile roofs. Aunt Shoko lived in one such abode, which they inherited from her in-laws. Though living in such a place was a lot simpler than most city-dwellers would like, her aunt had grown used to it, finding it more comfortable compared to living in a more modern home even though she lived only with her daughter Miki; Ryota Ito, her husband and Natsuki's uncle, was working in the neighboring region of Chūbu.

As soon as Natsuki passed through the house's wooden gate, a tiny girl with dark brown hair and a white dress came rushing out of the front door. "Mommy! Auntie Natsuki's here!" she squealed happily.

Natsuki smiled behind her face mask as she knelt down. "Hello, Miki! How are you today?" she asked lightly.

Miki grinned; her smile was missing a few teeth that had not grown yet due to her very young age, but Natsuki always found that cute. Though Miki was technically her cousin, she had grown used to being called "auntie" by her, especially given their age gap of nearly thirteen years.

"I'm doing fine, Auntie Natsuki. Mommy said you'd be stopping by today, so I waited by the front door for you!"

"That's nice of you," said Natsuki, pinching Miki's cheek gently and causing her to giggle. "How was school today?"

"Ooh, I got two stars from my teacher!" Miki replied excitedly. Natsuki knew that she had been anticipating the question and was very eager to say her reply. "She really liked the drawing that I made for Arts and Crafts. Mommy also liked the drawing after I showed it to her when I got home. She said that she was really happy because I have twenty stars now!"

"Twenty stars? Wow, I'm so proud of you, Miki!" Natsuki told her, ruffling her hair. "I tell you what—if you get even more stars, I'm going to give you a present the next time that I come by. How does that sound?"

Miki's eyes lit up instantly. "A present? Really?! Even if it's not my birthday yet?!"

"Yep! I'll make sure to give you a really good present for those stars. Do you want that?"

"Yes, very much, Auntie Natsuki!" Miki practically bobbed up and down with excitement as she spoke. "I'll do my best to get many, _many _stars!"

"That's the spirit!" said Natsuki, patting her head. When she looked up, she saw her aunt watching the two of them from the front door, smiling. Like Miki, she had dark brown hair which was tied up in a bun, and her build was a bit smaller compared to other adults of her age, though she was still taller than Natsuki herself. She was wearing a long grey dress with long sleeves, over which she wore a thick woolen shawl to protect against the autumn cold.

"Hello, Aunt Shoko," said Natsuki, inclining her head.

"You're here early, Natsuki," said Aunt Shoko warmly. "I was in the kitchen when I heard Miki saying that you've arrived. Come in."

Natsuki exhaled a sigh of relief as the three of them went inside. The house's interior provided some respite from the afternoon cold outside. She took off her shoes and walked with her aunt and Miki, passing by small rooms and sections that were separated by thin panels, or _shōji_. Though smaller compared to most dwellings, the house was beautiful in its traditional simplicity, and it was definitely a better place compared to the urbanely dismal abode that Natsuki lived in. When she was not looking after Miki or going out to visit her neighbors and buy groceries, Aunt Shoko would go around cleaning the house, and her efforts are easily noticeable in the way the house's wooden floors gleamed or how everything always seemed to be put in its proper place. Because of this, the place's homely feel was very palpable, and anyone entering it would never feel uncomfortable or trapped in. Not for the first time, Natsuki imagined what it would be like to live in such a nice home, away from the grim atmosphere that she dwelt in with her father.

Having prepared some tea and gyoza beforehand, Aunt Shoko invited Natsuki to join her for some afternoon snacking before they went down to business. Natsuki was more than happy to oblige; though she had eaten a normal lunch with Daisuke earlier, she had used up most of it as energy for the football game they had earlier during Physical Education. Following the house's traditional style, they ate at a _chabudai _instead of a normal dining table, sitting atop some soft zabutons instead of chairs. On an adjacent table that suited her small size, Miki was busy drawing some pictures with a bunch of crayons, only stopping to stand up and walk over to them so that her mother can feed her some gyoza. All the while, Natsuki conversed with her aunt about simple things that they usually talked about whenever she came to visit—school, the overall situation in the Ito household, and the weather. It did not take long, however, before the talk shifted towards her father.

"Has Ichiro found a new job yet?" asked Aunt Shoko.

Natsuki stared for a moment into her aunt's face; her brown hair and eyes were the only aspects of her face that she had in common with her father. Even though Aunt Shoko was almost ten years older, she looked significantly younger by comparison because of her father's battered look. Nearby, Miki kept drawing and coloring, still innocently oblivious to what the two of them were about to discuss—and what Natsuki was going through.

"I don't think so, Aunt Shoko," replied Natsuki quietly. "He hasn't been telling me anything yet, but I know he's still looking."

"Your uncle thinks that it's high time to help him find some work outside of the city," her aunt mused as she sipped some tea. "Of course, that means you'd be left all alone here."

_I'd like that better than coming home to him. _"If it comes to that, maybe I'll manage," said Natsuki. "I can rent an apartment or m-maybe stay here with you and Miki and Uncle Ryota," she added, trying hard not to sound too obviously hopeful at the thought.

"To tell you the truth, I've always considered that," her aunt admitted, making Natsuki's heart leap, "but your father wouldn't have any of it. No matter how hard we tried, we could never convince him to move on or let go of certain things. Your mother's passing, for instance."

_And how he might still be blaming me for it_, Natsuki mused, her hopes deflating.

"Of course, I understand that he doesn't want you to leave him, but he needs to make sure that he can take care of your studies," her aunt went on.

"Yes, I don't think Dad ever considered working outside of the city. We don't have the money for him to move out and find a decent place to stay, just like how I won't be able to rent an apartment or dormitory if he goes."

"Has he ever contacted his former coworkers? Maybe they can help him with that."

"N-No, he doesn't really talk to a lot of people nowadays."

"Well, I hope for everyone's sake that he thinks of something." Aunt Shoko sighed, shaking her head. "I'm all for helping Ichiro because it also means helping you, but he should know that we can't keep giving him money forever. How is he going to send you to college?"

"I was thinking about earning from a part-time job for that," Natsuki admitted. "I mean, m-maybe there are jobs in the city that can help get me by for my studies, right? Maybe I can just enroll in a technical college, too. That way, we won't have to spend a lot. Besides, how hard can it be to live as a working student?"

"Your mother wouldn't want that, Natsuki," said Aunt Shoko firmly. "I wouldn't want that, either. Until Miki starts elementary school, maybe I can convince your uncle to hang on for a little while longer. Your father is not that old yet, and besides, there are only just a couple more years at most before you graduate high school and enroll in college. I'm certain your father will have found a stable job by then."

In her mind's eye, Natsuki pictured just how long her father had been in his current state, wallowing in his vices and taking out some of his frustrations on her. Somehow, she saw no end in sight. "But if Uncle Ryota needs more money for Miki's studies, I'll start looking for a part-time job and earn in advance. It's okay if I delay college for a year until I've e-earned enough, right?"

"Yes, but don't lose hope, okay?" said Aunt Shoko with a supportive tone. "If push comes to shove, I'll talk to Ichiro and your uncle about this, and we'll find a good compromise. Just keep studying well. You're a bright student, and if you can maintain good credentials until you graduate, maybe you can apply for a college scholarship. You can be sure that your uncle and I will help you with that."

Clinging hard onto that form of hope in the future, Natsuki smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Aunt Shoko. Really, thank you for everything."

"You're welcome, Natsuki," said her aunt, smiling back. "You're family, after all."

At that moment, Natsuki felt a tug on her sleeve. She looked around to see Miki holding up her drawing proudly. "I drew you, Auntie Natsuki! Look!" she declared enthusiastically.

The drawing depicted a stick figure version of Natsuki surrounded by other cute things—misshapen flowers, cat doodles and multicolored smileys. Her hair was colored with the most vivid shade of pink that Miki had among her crayons, with wayward smudges of color sticking out in some places. Natsuki took the drawing from her with a word of praise and thanks, pinching Miki's cheek playfully as she did while Aunt Shoko watched them with a cordial air in her eyes. It made Natsuki wish—once again, not for the first time—that she could stay here forever, with relatives that seemed so near and yet so far.

* * *

Daisuke was busy reading in his bedroom when he heard slightly raised voices outside his door. Looking up from the manga he was holding, he realized that it was his mother and Hiroko who were conversing—or rather, arguing a little. He stood up and walked over to the door, leaning towards it as he listened.

"—not going down there, Mom. Not while _he's _down there, too," he heard Hiroko say irritably.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting him to show up tonight as well," said his mother, "but what's wrong with just going back downstairs and seeing him for a short while? You were there when he arrived, right?"

"I know, but that doesn't mean—"

"Hiroko, it's been _years _since we last saw him. Don't you want to talk to him?"

"_I don't want to see him, Mom._" From the way Hiroko spoke, it sounded as if she was avoiding an ex-boyfriend who had stopped by to see her again. "If you want, I'm just gonna wait in my room while you talk to him. When he leaves, I'll just come back downstairs and ask you what you two talked about."

Shortly after this, Daisuke heard a door close; he imagined that Hiroko must have barricaded herself in her room after her last statement. Not wanting to leave his mother all alone, he opened the door and peeked outside. He saw her standing alone in the hallway, looking rather deep in thought.

"Mom?"

His voice made her look up. "Oh, Daisuke. I guess you heard me and Hiroko talking out here, huh?" she said, laughing a little.

"Couldn't help it, you guys were a bit loud." Daisuke glanced at the stairs. "Who's down there?"

Instead of immediately replying, his mother walked over towards him with a sigh. She placed a hand on his shoulder and looked straight into his eyes with a seriousness that he rarely saw.

"It's your father."

Daisuke fell silent. Again, he looked over at the staircase. In a way, he should have already guessed who might have come visiting them for his mother and Hiroko to act jumpily like that, but it felt like a long shot to assume at his first guess that it was his father. After all, apart from some occasional letters that only his mother read, his father hadn't made his presence known in their home for four years.

"What's he doing here?" he asked his mother.

"He said that he just wanted to, you know . . . drop by. He wanted to see you two as well, but your sister stormed off. I followed her up here to try and convince her to stay with me downstairs, because I didn't want it to be just your father and me. It's just . . . you know. . ."

Daisuke knew what she meant. It was only his mother's general congeniality towards people and the love she once had for their father that made her entertain his letters and presence still, however casually she might do so. Hiroko, who was still so frustrated with what their father had done, always avoided talking about him and often argued with their mother about why she was still receiving and reading their father's letters, let alone tolerating his presence when—or rather, if—he came to visit.

"Alright, come on, Mom. I'll go downstairs."

His mother raised her eyebrows in genuine surprise. "Are you sure?"

"Well, yeah. It's not like I was doing anything important before I came out here. Besides, you told Hiroko that you didn't want to be left down there with . . . him. That's why I'm going with you."

Admittedly, though, it felt rather weird for Daisuke to decide on a dime like that. Though he no longer shared Hiroko's animosity towards their father—the time for that had been back in middle school for him—there was no reason for him to also feel cordial or at least casually polite towards him. After all, what he did still rang in Daisuke's memory vividly, especially now that he was older and understood everything about it better. Still, it was better than leaving his mother to deal with this by herself.

"Come on, Mom," he repeated, closing the door of his room behind him. "It's better if we get this over with now, right?"

Though she was still caught off guard by his decision, his mother gave him an appreciative smile. "Okay, let's go."

Daisuke was overcome with a surreal feeling when he entered the empty diner through the kitchen with his mother. His father sat alone at one of the tables there, waiting patiently for them. In the years that Daisuke hadn't seen him, he still looked the same, though there were more lines on his face and under his eyes. Beneath the long black overcoat he was wearing, he had on a crisp suit, undoubtedly his uniform for work in whatever office he might be currently employed in. Like them, he had blonde hair, wavy like Daisuke's, though his eyes were brown instead of amber like Hiroko's; Daisuke always imagined how Hiroko must dislike looking in a mirror and being reminded of their father. Perhaps that was why his sister liked cutting her hair short all the time.

He looked at the two of them, surprise evident on his face as he saw Daisuke.

"Son," he greeted calmly, standing up.

"Hello," said Daisuke in reply, privately deciding not to call him "Dad."

"After Hiroko left in a hurry, I thought it was just going to be me and your mother down here."

"Mom needed the company," said Daisuke with casual politeness. "What are you doing here?"

His father smiled. It was a genuine expression, but somehow, Daisuke felt no warmth coming from it, though that may only be because of how long they had not seen or heard from one another, especially given those tumultuous times in the past. It felt as if he was meeting a complete stranger and not Masaru Matsuda, the man that his mother married. Even being referred to by his father's surname all this time felt weird; after the divorce had been settled on a mutual agreement, it was his mother's choice not to change back into her pre-marriage surname.

"I'm sure your mother told you two upstairs, but to answer your question, I just thought of stopping by to visit," his father replied, looking around the diner. "To tell you the truth, I've wanted to do that for a while now, but work wasn't letting me."

"What made you think about visiting?" asked his mother, sitting down on a vacant chair and prompting everyone else to follow suit.

"I just wanted to see you all again. Check on how you were doing, things like that." His father sighed. "I know it sounds rather out of place, and you might be thinking that I shouldn't even be here—"

"No, no, everything's fine," said his mother, waving her hand airily. "If you came over while the diner was still open, I wouldn't have been able to talk to you properly, so it was better that you showed up a bit later."

"I see. That's good, then. Good. . ."

A short silence fell. Daisuke could feel just how awkward things could get. Evidently, no one among them knew what to say. Still, he fought the urge to get up and leave, not wanting to abandon his mother after he had volunteered to keep her company.

"So . . . how's your family?" asked his mother in a would-be casual tone.

His father shifted where he sat. "They're doing alright. Chizuko's at home watching the kids. I told her that I'll be paying you a visit beforehand, so she knows I'm here."

Daisuke remembered Chizuko Kanemaru well, even though he only saw her once in his life during one of the legal proceedings that they attended when his parents settled their divorce. It felt odd then to look at the black-haired beauty whom his father had chosen over his mother, and whom his sister regarded with deep-seated loathing.

If there was any coldness on his mother's part about Chizuko being mentioned, she hid it well. "I'm glad to hear that they're doing fine," she said smoothly.

"Thank you. How about you, Daisuke?"

Daisuke glanced up, surprised at the sudden mention of his name. "What?" he asked.

"How's everything? At school, your studies and whatnot. You'll be graduating in a couple of years, right?"

"Oh. Y-Yeah, school is just fine," replied Daisuke. "And yeah, around two more years and I'll be going to college."

"That's great," said his father with a nod. "Are you going to take up college here or in another prefecture?"

"I haven't given it any thought yet. I mean, it's still two years away." In a way, Daisuke could feel the pressure of how awkward the conversation sounded in his hearing; it also made him understand further why Hiroko wanted nothing to do with staying down here. Though he wanted to sound polite in replying, he could not help but feel that he sounded too casual and even condescending with his words.

Even his father seemed to feel so. "Ah, I suppose you're right about that."

For the next ten minutes, Daisuke endured a back-and-forth conversation between him and his parents. It was cordial at best, thanks in no small part to his mother's intentions to keep it so without asking anything else about the past. Daisuke managed to get a short break from it all when his mother asked him to prepare some tea for the three of them, and as he went to the kitchen to do so, he imagined that if Hiroko was with them, things would have escalated quickly into a heated debate about his father's shortcomings and wrongs long before he had returned with the tea. For the most part, he was silent, only speaking when a question was addressed to him. As time passed, though, he could not help but remember the times when his father was still around. He had been in middle school when the affair with Chizuko Kanemaru surfaced, and within a year, his father was gone. It was remarkable how years of having a father figure, punctuated by memories of family outings and fun times, had all changed in an instant. Daisuke felt like he wasn't bearing any scars from that experience, but he mused that maybe he wasn't just aware of them. Perhaps he had already given voice to his frustrations and despondence back when the crisis happened, when he refused to speak to his father before he had left. Perhaps he never felt that affected by it all as he grew older because his mother had done her very best to make sure that he and Hiroko had a father figure in her, and he could never thank her enough for that. Privately, though, he was reminded of Natsuki's issues with her own father. Daisuke knew that he had it better than she did, and he hoped with all his might that things would get better for her in the long run.

When the time came for his father to call it a night, Daisuke felt a bit relieved. Though he was fine with staying a few more minutes with his mother, he wanted to get back upstairs and read again in the relative comfort of his room. Outside, the twinkle of lights from buildings and vehicles cast shadows through the windows of the diner, occasionally blotting out the relatively dimmer radiance provided by the dim lights on the diner's walls. As he cleaned up the cups his mother had brought out for their tea, his parents exchanged some final pleasantries.

"Daisuke?" he suddenly heard his mother call.

Daisuke turned around, stopping just short of reaching the kitchen door. "Yeah?"

His mother clasped her hands together, looking rather hesitant to reply. "Your father wants to talk to you before he goes."

Surprise and curiosity welled up in him. "What about?"

"Um, I think it's better if I leave you two alone for that," his mother replied earnestly, walking towards him. "Just give me those cups. I'll take them to the kitchen myself, okay?"

"Er, alright, sure thing." Though he was a bit hesitant, Daisuke handed the cups over to his mother, who took them from him carefully and made her way into the kitchen, leaving him alone with his father.

"So what do you wanna talk about?" he asked him. All around them, the silence felt deafening, and he was certain that his mother was listening intently from within the kitchen.

His father did not immediately reply. Instead, he bowed his head and stared for a while at the floor. Daisuke can tell that he was thinking about what to say—that or he was simply hesitating on whether or not he should speak about it. Daisuke couldn't blame him; the years his father had spent away from the family he started was bound to have left various thoughts and musings, all of which were coming back in full force now that he had seen the three of them again.

"I'm sorry," his father finally muttered. "I never got to apologize to Hiroko and you f-for doing what I did, for . . . for failing as a father and as a husband to your mother. . . Your sister never gave me a chance, and I'll admit that that stopped me from talking to you about it as well. I didn't want to leave you with any kind of bitterness the way I did with Hiroko, but . . . I didn't know what to say w-without—"

"It's okay," said Daisuke, cutting across him. "I understand."

"No, hear me out, p-please." His father stepped forward now, looking determined to continue speaking. "I wish I could make it up to you all in some way. I really want to. Your mother says that everything is alright, and that there's nothing else to worry about, but I feel like . . . like there's still something missing."

"I don't think there is," Daisuke stated. "I mean, I'm not trying to sound like I'm shutting you down or anything, but to be honest . . . it feels like we've moved on. Well, Hiroko might still be angry about everything that happened, but I don't . . . I don't feel like I am."

"I see," said his father, looking a bit crestfallen. Not wanting to end things on a somber note, Daisuke racked his brain for something else to say or ask. He had a feeling that his frustration and bitterness back then would soon boil over if he didn't say anything. Eventually, he came to the only question that seemed sensible to ask, something he had always imagined but never asked anyone about, not even his mother.

"Why did you do it?"

His father drew back slightly, running his hand through his hair. Daisuke guessed that he must have been anticipating the question. "I . . . I don't know if I can ever give a justifiable answer to your question, son," he admitted.

"You can try nonetheless," Daisuke stated.

With a beseeching look in his eyes, his father sighed dejectedly. "Alright. Well, the thing is that . . . there were times when your mother and I couldn't get along. We fought over certain things—our parents, money, my work, stuff like that. We tried really hard not to let it show to you and your sister, but Hiroko was there during some of them. Anyway, it caused a bit of a rift then between me and your mother. We tried hard to mend everything together, but it was tough. That was when Chizuko kept me company, giving me advice and whatnot. We were always together at the office, and she'd always try her best to help me. Eventually, it just led to . . . t-to where things just took off for each and every one of us."

Daisuke could not help but imagine just how Hiroko would react to that. "How did it make you feel?" he asked.

"Well, to be honest . . . it felt horrible, especially when I realized what I just got into. I don't think Chizuko wanted it to end up the way it did, but it went on nonetheless. When your mother and your sister found out, there was no other way out of it. That was when your mother knew that it was over between us. We talked over the phone, securing the legal meetings we'd need to finalize the divorce, and the rest is history. Of course, I could never forget about it all. Spent a lot of days feeling so down that I couldn't even work. Even Chizuko couldn't help me, since we were both feeling very guilty for what happened, and any attempt we made to move forward again felt like a sin for us.

"The only way we managed to bounce back was when your mother sent me this letter, telling me that we should all just move on with our lives, and that deep down, she would eventually forgive me for what happened. I don't blame your mother for what happened. I had a hand in all those fights we had, and what I did is my own fault, and no one else's. Her forgiveness was a blessing I didn't deserve, and I'm not expecting any from you and your sister. Right now, I'm just glad that you chose to hear me out. I really appreciate that."

Again, silence stretched between them. Daisuke stared silently at his father, trying to piece together what he just said with the memories he had about him. It was then that he began to feel once again an odd emotion welling within him, the same emotion that he felt when he realized that his parents would be separating. It felt like a mixture of sadness, frustration and acceptance.

"Anyway, I have to get going," his father stated quietly, checking his watch. "I wish I could stay for a bit longer, but Chizuko needs me at home. Just tell your mother that I'll see myself out, okay? I'll see if I can visit again in the future."

"Sure thing," said Daisuke. "Take care."

His father smiled; this time, Daisuke felt the warmth behind it, though he couldn't convince himself to return it.

"Thank you, son."

When he went back inside the kitchen, he found his mother still there, sitting next to one of the counters and mulling over a fresh cup of tea in the dark. The lights outside the nearby windows shone against her form, throwing the lines of her face into sharper relief and making her look a lot older. She looked up as Daisuke walked over to her.

"Is he gone?" she asked.

"Yep," replied Daisuke. "He did say that he's gonna see if he can stop by again in the future."

"Ah, yes, he did mention that earlier to me, too. So what did he say to you?"

Daisuke sighed, leaning against the counter next to his mother. "A lot of things. About what happened back then and all. . ."

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing much. To be frank, I didn't know what else to say."

"Ah, that's understandable." His mother paused for a moment. "I think he wants to make the most out of his time here. That's why he came to visit and talk to us."

Daisuke looked at her. "'His time here'? What do you mean?"

"He told me about it when you were in the kitchen," replied his mother silently, emptying her tea in one go. "Apparently, he and his family will be moving out of the city in a few weeks to relocate to Kyushu for good. I'm guessing that before they go, he wants to be able to talk to us one last time."

For a moment, Daisuke remembered his father's words, and how he seemed to insist on saying his piece, like he didn't have a lot of time left. It threw his conversation with him into a whole new light.

"Is Hiroko gonna know?" he asked his mother.

"I'll take care of that, don't worry. Anyway, it's getting late. You can go back to your room now. I'll just clean up here before I go upstairs, too."

"Well, okay. Are you gonna be fine?"

"Of course I'll be fine." His mother grinned, dispelling the aged appearance that the lights coming in through the windows had given her face. Beneath it all, however, Daisuke knew that she was thinking about his father's upcoming departure, just like he was. As he glanced out of the nearby windows, staring into the urbane atmosphere outside those glass panes, he found himself imagining how this was all part of how life can go.


	37. Chapter 37 - The Shadows In Us All

_A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters._

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN – THE SHADOWS IN US ALL (YuKi)**

The hospital had an air of coldness that bit through Naoki in spite of the warm clothing he was wearing. Even though there were people about, the atmosphere was often subdued, almost depressed. Perhaps that was because there were always people being wheeled in atop gurneys or carried on stretchers from one room to another, each bearing a sign of sickness or injury. Doctors and nurses conversed in silent, terse tones about the progress of certain patients. Footsteps tapped against the polished floors in a silent but enduring cadence. Sometimes, the dismal ambience would be punctuated by buzzes from the hospital's PA system as clerks called upon a queue of people that waited patiently as they sat on a row of chairs. In general, the hospital's aura seemed to convince everyone to go about their business quietly. Naturally, that wasn't often the case—there were times when the volume would pick up as doctors and nurses would hustle past to tend to a patient in need of emergency care.

Naoki knew that must have certainly been the case when her mother's good friend and former colleague Tsuru Kobayashi was rushed to the hospital a couple of days ago. She had been found unresponsive by her sister Tsukiko in their apartment, and had been under intensive care ever since. Naoki's mother had been notified about the incident, and as shocked as she was about what had happened, no one was prepared for the presumed cause of Tsuru's predicament—according to her sister, she had apparently tried to take her own life by overdosing on medications.

Naoki knew Tsuru relatively well; there were times when she came over to visit and have long talks with his mother about their former jobs and the things that they were currently busy with. Though she was small and rather reserved, Tsuru Kobayashi was nice and friendly, always bearing a small gift such as sweets or pastries whenever she came over and always insisting on helping his mother clean up whenever they finish having tea together. In a way, she reminded Naoki of Yuri, and somehow that made the news of her attempted suicide all the more shocking.

The visit was planned late in the afternoon, after Naoki had come home from school. His mother had been anxious and rather fearful of the idea of being alone on her first hospital visit to her friend, and had thus requested him to come along. Having nothing urgent to do, Naoki had obliged her; it also helped take his mind off of Yuri and what had transpired since his second—and possibly last—visit to her home. Though Yuri showed no more visible signs of anxiety that Naoki could see, she seemed keen on avoiding him outright, though he knew that it was more out of shame and anxiousness than resentment on her part.

His mother soon returned from the nearby reception desk, gesturing for him to come along. As he stood up from the waiting area where other people sat and waited, Naoki did not know what to feel; for one thing, though he felt relieved about leaving the hospital hallway's dismal aura behind to enter the room where Tsuru was confined, he also dreaded the anticipation of seeing his mother's friend in her current state.

Outside the room, Tsukiko was waiting for them. She greeted the two of them as cordially as she could, though Naoki could see the signs of shock and worry that still gripped her. Her face was pale, and her round eyes were bloodshot. Her hair was askew, with wayward locks sticking out in some places. When she shook hands with them, Naoki noticed that she was trembling slightly, and her fingers felt almost deathly cold.

After exchanging what subdued pleasantries they could with one another, Tsukiko gestured with her hand. "Let's get inside," she said hoarsely, motioning towards their room's door.

As he entered the room with his mother behind Tsukiko, Naoki began remembering certain memories that he had of hospitals. Just a few years back, he had gone with his parents to Yamanashi to visit his eighty-two-year-old grandfather one last time before he passed away peacefully. A few months later, he had gone with them once again to Tochigi briefly to visit his aunt and uncle right after the birth of his cousin Genzo. On both occasions, Naoki had been an observer to the emotions that ran high then, and here he was again in a similar scenario.

Tsuru looked as if she was simply sleeping as she lay on her bed, but that image was marred horribly by the presence of the thin tubes that snaked their way around her arms and were connected to some sort of machine. The worst part was the sight of the tube that was inserted in her mouth, which Naoki sensed was part of the respirator that pumped air into her lungs and helped keep her alive. A nearby monitor beeped its quiet but steady rhythm as it kept track of her heartbeat. Naoki's mind wandered back to the last visit he paid his grandfather, though that seemed slightly better in comparison because there were less tubes and machines present.

"How is she?" his mother asked silently.

"I d-don't know," muttered Tsukiko. "The doctors are still monitoring her vital signs and breathing and whatnot. I don't know half of what they say sometimes, but the nurses tell me that unless something changes, there's n-nothing to worry about."

"How about your parents? Your other relatives? Are they going to arrive soon?"

Tsukiko swallowed as she stifled a dry sob. "Y-Yes. They should b-be arriving in the city by tomorrow."

"That's good to hear."

Silence fell once again. Naoki could not blame his mother or Tsukiko for having nothing else to say at the moment. All he could do was to observe Tsuru's comatose form, imagining if she would ever wake up from her ordeal, and how many before her had passed on in the end. Unlike in novels where a reader had full insight and scrutiny over a certain character's inner demons, real life was all about unpredictability and the way people fought and endured through it, and there were times when some grew tired of it all and looked for ways to escape.

As time passed, the silence was slowly broken as the inevitable question was asked: did Tsuru ever show signs of depression? Naoki listened as Tsukiko narrated how she saw nothing to indicate that her sister suffered from such a powerful illness. Looking back at it, it was indeed hard to deduce from Tsuru's cordiality that something was wrong, but then again, wasn't that always the case with the people who take their own lives? Smiles and gestures often paint a story that was a whole lot different from the shadows that dwelt inside a person. Tsukiko admitted that the only times Tsuru ever seemed down and out was when her boyfriend left her, and when she was laid off from her second job as an accountant. In spite of these experiences, Tsuru had managed to get by normally, and Tsukiko did not see the need to ask if anything was amiss. At this point, she tearfully began berating herself for not seeing the signs, but Naoki's mother comforted her and reminded her that knowing when to see these signs was never easy to spot, let alone get her sister to admit about the inner turmoil she was enduring.

The visit lasted for more than an hour. After going as far as she dared with her questions, Naoki's mother did not want to ask anything else while Tsukiko was still evidently reeling from shock and grief. Any attempts to talk about something else never took off, not with the sight of Tsuru right in front of them. A nurse came in every twenty minutes to check on the life support machine. Other than that, there was very little movement and energy inside the room.

Later on, in the passenger seat of his mother's car, Naoki broke his silence. "Do you think she'll make it, Mom?"

His mother sighed sadly. "I have no idea. You heard Tsukiko—as long as the doctors are still monitoring her vital signs and don't have answers yet, we can't know for sure what will happen. Of course, I'm praying just as much as she is that Tsuru will pull through."

"I hope so, too. It's just terrible. Reminds me of the time Grandpa was about to go."

"I know. This one is really different, though. The last time Tsuru came for a visit, she looked better than ever. She was carrying this little box full of assorted sweets—you remember them, right? The sweets I shared with you and your father that one time?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"She said that she was planning on getting some help to start her own sweets shop. She always said that in the office, back when we still worked together. She never liked working in an office, no. She wanted to start her own business with Tsukiko. That day, she asked me if I knew anyone who would be able to help her, and I referred her to a few acquaintances. She was so happy when she left. Kept thanking me over and over, telling me that I was a real lifesaver." At this, his mother's voice trembled a little. "If anyone had gone back in time to tell me then that Tsuru would . . . w-would end up like this, I wouldn't have believed them no matter what they said. Not a chance.

"I wanted to ask Tsukiko on whether Tsuru bore any signs or did any . . . you know. Alcohol, drugs, self-harm, those kinds of things, they're always possible signs. But poor Tsukiko would've freaked out if I asked her that. I mean, you saw how she reacted when we asked her about Tsuru being depressed."

For a moment, Naoki remembered Curt Morgan, whose vices and problems were tackled in a vivid representation in_ Dreams from Dystopium_. He wondered whether that was how it was for those who were in the same boat as him. The thought also made him remember reading and analyzing with Yuri and how much he was starting to miss that, though not as much as he missed her.

"And to imagine Tsuru drinking alcohol or doing illegal drugs . . . no, it can't be that," his mother continued, though Naoki mused that she might only be thinking out loud at this point. "It can't have been. You'd see signs—withdrawal, the eyes, anything. Tsuru never had that. No, she can't have been drinking or drugging or hurting herself. We would've noticed if she did, right?"

Naoki nodded. "Yeah. Out of all that, self-harm seems to be the most subtle one because you can hide that with a lot of things—clothes and makeup, for instance."

At that moment, he stopped at the sound of his words. The idea popped up in his head as sudden as a twist in the novels he had read before.

"_Self-harm._" "_Subtle._" "_Clothes._"

_Yuri. Her sleeves. Her forearm._

_Her knives. The red stains._

Naoki would have laughed at the idea at how the words involuntarily formed a haiku in his head, but he couldn't even smile. He echoed his mother's words in his mind. _No, it can't be that. It can't be._

"Son? Are you okay?"

He blinked. Though he could not see his own face, he knew he had paled at the thoughts he was having, enough for his mother to notice. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself in spite of the dread welling up inside him like a slow burn. "I'm fine. I just . . . remembered something that I've read about . . . a-about self-harm, that's all."

Of course, that was a bit of a lie. Naoki knew about the concept of self-harm, but he was not yet too familiar with it to the point where he could tout what he was thinking in an attempt to connect it with this new possibility that Yuri might be . . . might be . . .

As soon as they arrived home, Naoki went upstairs, booted up his laptop and immediately began reading up on self-harm online. Though the subject was not exactly the type that was prevalent at first glance on the internet's trending topics, he soon found numerous articles and websites that spoke of the issue. Naoki saw how they identified self-harm not as a disorder, but rather a behavior that was a possible effect of certain illnesses and disorders. One thing eventually led to another as Naoki opened up tabs about anxiety, taking his time to read through them as deeply as possible. As he kept reading, he began to imagine if he would really like what he would find in the end.

The articles all posited the same message: anxiety as a disorder can lead to self-harm in people, which then came in different forms—obviously, cutting was one of them. Still, Naoki needed something more than just the medicinal or scientific approach to the discussion of self-harm and cutting in particular, so he opened a few more tabs and looked for actual firsthand accounts of those who practiced self-harm. In this day and age, such things were made present across the internet in the hopes of telling others that they were not alone, and that there are those who have gone through similar ordeals and battled through them successfully.

As time passed, however, Naoki slowed down. His initial dread had ebbed away slightly to help his mind register a few questions. Was Yuri actually engaging in self-harm? Was he simply overreacting to the ideas given by what he said, a grave aftereffect of the hospital visit? True enough, the red stains he saw on Yuri's sleeve were odd, but he had given her the benefit of the doubt and imagined that they were indeed ink stains. Somehow, it was hard to imagine that Yuri would actually have a darker reason behind those stains, and yet with his penchant for analyzing things and looking at facts, he could never discount the idea that it was all possible. Right now, all the evidence he had seen thus far pointed to the idea that Yuri could be practicing self-harm out of a certain disorder or mental illness. If such was the case, more daunting questions presented themselves. Was Yuri practicing self-harm as an outlet for her anxiety? Was she depressed, even? And if one or both cases are true, then what can he hope to do?

After an hour's worth of reading and researching, Naoki began to understand the psychological and emotional weight behind the idea of self-harm a lot better. It was hard for him to read something that was no work of fiction, but real descriptions made by actual people who had gone through pain in such a way. Still, he found himself unable to look away as he read, imagining that at a pace like this, he would have to skip dinner. Though he had no way of knowing what these people sounded like, their words gave him a sense of familiarity about them, as if they were friends talking to him and anyone else who would read their stories. One spoke of how self-harm provided him a sense of control whenever the pressure of his job would start piling on him; another used cutting as a sort of punishment for her shortcomings towards her significant other; one had simply grown to like the sensation that the pain gave him, even though he knew there was something wrong with what he was doing. Some explained how they had felt so numb that they needed the pain to make sure they were still able to feel something, anything. Others simply preferred physical pain over emotional pain, and thus found solace through the practice.

When he had read all that he could digest for now, Naoki sat back in silence. Again, nothing was final until he found out whether the connection between self-harm and Yuri was true. It felt like he was simply grasping at straws, though it made sense when he looked back at the evidence.

Briefly, he wondered how he would approach Yuri to try and find out. It had become difficult to talk to her since his last visit, and she seemed keen on avoiding his glance even in class. Though Naoki wanted to talk to her again, he found himself unable to force Yuri to do so, not wanting to add any more to the pressure he had undoubtedly given her before. Still, now that he had deduced the possibility—not a fact yet, he kept telling himself—that Yuri was engaging in self-harm, he felt that he could not stand by idly anymore. He considered asking for help from his fellow quadrumvirs—there was no doubt that he could use their personal judgment and even a bit of offhand humor at a time like this—but he felt that the less people that got involved in this, the better it would be for Yuri.

He stood up and glanced outside his bedroom window. Night had already fallen. The lamps lining the neighborhood's streets cast their light against a few trees, creating elongated shadows on the road. As he stared at them, they reminded him of scars.

* * *

Yuri was not alone. Libitina was with her every step of the way.

It was _The Shadow Over Innsmouth_ all over again, only this time it was Libitina who was starting to discover her true heritage in its horrific fullness instead of Robert Olmstead. For Yuri, it had been rather obvious—_The Portrait of Markov_ had been sending signs and clues for several chapters now—but rather than having Libitina revealed as a failed experiment who had been smuggled out of the nefarious cult's facility by her companions in the past, it appeared that she was intentionally allowed to escape and left alone by the cult so that her mysterious "Third Eye" can develop in full in an environment that can succeed where the cult had failed. It was this eye that was the source and cause of many of the novel's preternatural scenarios, and it is implied that it is what keeps Libitina tied to the eldritch dimension that the cult has ties with, hence her powers and clairvoyance. In the struggles she faced with her friends and family throughout the novel, with all the stress and grief she felt at watching her companions suffer and the rage she felt at her former captors, Libitina slowly unlocked the powers of the eye. In the end, as she tracked down the cult's origins in search for answers, she had done the facility's work for it. As the Third Eye began to be explained more and more, the eye symbol embossed on the book's cover made a whole lot of sense now.

Yuri felt rather guilty at the thought that she was breaking the agreement she made with Naoki about not reading in advance. Though their lunchtime discussions had been put on hold ever since her anxiety kicked in, she had tried her best to stay true to the agreement and not read any new chapters from _Markov_. In the end, her desire to be lost in another world after having been trapped in the shocking but cathartic paradise of physical pain won her over. There was also the comfort of knowing that she was not alone, and that she had these fictional characters to turn to.

Of course, that also fed her the wrong ideas. In _Markov_, Libitina was suffering from the conflict of realizing that her powers and upbringing made her a terrible monster, especially as she finds out that her tendency to let her emotions fly gets her friends into trouble. In that vein, Yuri could relate to the heroine more than ever. How many times in the past had she caused trouble by being too excited or unsuccessfully keeping her emotions and thoughts in check? Granted, she did not put the people around her in danger with her actions and words the way Libitina did, but she felt troublesome enough. Moreover, there was the deep, dark secret that she hid, her own Third Eye to hide, growing stronger the more cuts she made.

Still, Yuri clung on to the idea that Libitina was fighting back. She was trying to fight the power within her, and stop the Third Eye from ever coming alive and taking control of her being. Like Natasha and her shadows, Libitina fought with the hope that she would live normally. Given that it seemed futile given how powerful the darkness advancing toward them was, Yuri marveled at their courage and determination to remove the taint inside them, and she knew that she could also do what they were doing. Now that the exams were over, she could start doing just that by picking up the pieces. Of course, that would be a daunting task indeed. It was like a drug addict promising to stay clean and steer clear of his addiction, or a drinker wishing to stay sober after cursing the effects of alcohol on a bad night. They can say all they want about change, but the shadow of a relapse was always lurking around the corner, ready to ruin everything all over again.

With nothing else to worry about for now, Yuri was thankful that her anxiety had eased down just enough for her to avoid grasping another one of her knives. Still, it lingered to the point where she could not interact with people properly, let alone with Naoki. Since the day he came very close to finding out what she was hiding beneath her sleeves, Yuri had always made sure to wrap clean bandages tightly around her forearm, never taking chances even when the cuts had begun to dry and heal. She knew that she would never feel safe and secure until only scars were left, but she also did not know when and if she would take up her knives again. To distract from these thoughts, Yuri had done her best to write down how she felt with a pen and the paper on one of her notebooks instead of using a knife and the skin of her forearm. It hadn't been easy, though; the more she struggled to jumpstart her writing to become productive, the stronger her urge to cut became. It also did not help that she was just a short distance away from her knives. To control her urge, she made it a point to police herself by writing in the presence of her grandmother, striking up conversations with her so that she would not feel compelled to leave the room and let one thing lead to another. In the end, her efforts had paid dividends as she managed to start writing a few things. Soon, random words became writing prompts for a poem, and she managed to find the time to start articulating her words.

Bathing was slightly more difficult to circumvent, for she could never stop the pain that came whenever she would wash her forearm. Every time the water ran across her cuts, and every time she carefully cleaned them with soap, the stinging sensation surged through her and made it feel like her arm was on fire. Yuri would hiss and gasp, shuddering as she let the pain run its course. Often times, the dried cuts would open up and bleed slightly from the washing, her blood mixing with the soapy water and trickling down her arm. Her skin, having grown pale from all the times she had wrapped it so very tightly with bandages, threw the colors into sharper relief and made the spectacle look like red cracks on porcelain. After that, it was only a matter of drying and bandaging her cuts.

Even with all her precautions and her attempts to start keeping things under control, however, Yuri knew she wasn't out of the woods yet. She still felt obligated to bridge the gap that she had created between herself and Naoki. Perhaps if she managed to bring things back to normal and act like nothing ever happened, Naoki would be none the wiser about what he had almost discovered during his last visit. After all, she had kept her scars hidden for the vast majority of her teenage life, so to keep on lying and hiding would be easy for her to accomplish. It was better than the alternative of avoiding Naoki for the rest of her life, for how could she bring herself to avoid the person who had made her feel wanted and appreciated? How could she stray so far from the one who showed her that she was not a ghost, immaterial and fleeting, but rather a person who was—or can be—whole?

Tomorrow would be her chance to work on that. Yuri hoped that she would pull through as she had always done. If not, her knives would be there to help her all over again. Whether the thought comforted her or not, she could not say.

* * *

The longer the week wore on, the more Naoki realized that he couldn't even rely on his friends if he wanted to. Even now that the exams were finished, Daisuke and Akihiro were both absent for most days, making him wonder if something was up with Natsuki and Sayori or if they were simply busy with other things. Meanwhile, though Kenta was with him during lunchtimes as always, he looked to be worrying about something, though he wouldn't give him any clue as to what that was. So far, no one had spoken to him about Monika's next get-together, but he was fine with that. There were more important things to worry about in the meantime. And so, he began to observe Yuri discreetly and watch for anything peculiar about her behavior.

One of the things that Naoki always considered viable proof was the fact that he had never seen Yuri wear short-sleeved articles of clothing. For the majority of the time, she was either wearing their long-sleeved school uniform or other forms of long-sleeved attire, like the sweater she wore during the first get-together with the rest of the gang. Their P.E. uniform made use of a short-sleeved short, but Yuri always wore arm sleeves with that as well. It was an odd thing for Naoki—odd enough to be considered proof for his musings, but it was also partially debunked by the idea that some of their other classmates also occasionally wore arm sleeves for P.E. Perhaps Yuri simply preferred wearing long-sleeved apparel, and her wardrobe at home was limited to such articles of clothing.

The second idea that Naoki had to go with was Yuri's interest in knives. From what he had read, cutters often used razor blades and knives, and some of them had admitted to even collecting these blades and keeping them hidden away to use whenever the urge to cut struck them again. Still, given her penchant for liking things that she admits are odd at times, perhaps Yuri was simply interested in knives the same way she was interested in horror novels or aromatherapy. And besides, people always had weird hobbies and things that they liked to collect, so what made Yuri different from them? Nevertheless, Naoki clung to the fact for now.

Yuri's anxiety was his third and most obvious piece of proof. Admittedly, Naoki was no expert, but from what he had read online Yuri showed a lot of the symptoms of social anxiety, and her bouts would be characteristic of generalized anxiety disorder. Naoki saw it in the way she second-guessed herself whenever she stated an opinion, and immediately apologized for any verbal slight that she feels she might have incurred, even when there was none. He saw it in her reluctance to speak in front of other people, and the way she was always afraid about being intrusive or out of line. Whenever these things got to her, coupled with the pressure of tackling something important or failing at that task, Yuri would panic and crumble, as he had seen firsthand when they had studied together and when he last visited her. Could her anxiety be severe enough to the point where she got around to practicing self-harm? There was still the possibility that Yuri was depressed, though the notion of her having anxiety was more plausible than that at the moment.

Lastly, and perhaps both the most subtle and the most glaring evidence of them all, there was Yuri's tendency to grab her forearm whenever she felt too nervous. Naoki had always treated it as a mannerism of sorts, much like how people twirl their hair or fiddle with their thumbs and fingers whenever they spoke. However, given that Yuri always grabbed the same forearm that bore the red stains he saw, Naoki had become unable to shrug the thought off.

Try as he might to look for new signs or get back with her all over again, Yuri still seemed keen on avoiding him. Even during lectures when the two of them would exchange what notes they needed, she kept her distance and took on everything alone. Twice, when she got up to excuse herself from the class and go to the bathroom, Naoki wanted to follow her and intercept her in the corridor, but that had been too straightforward for his taste. If he wanted to get close enough to prove his assumptions correct, he needed to bond with Yuri again.

In his mind, however, it all seemed off. With the way he was observing Yuri from the sidelines as he tried to find a way to bridge the gap between them and hopefully find out more about her possible self-harm issues, it was like a betrayal on his part. It felt like Yuri was a wrongdoer whom he was monitoring closely in order to see if she would do something bad. Naoki knew it wasn't like that, but given how secretive his approach was, it felt like so.

His worry seemed unneeded, however, when he encountered Yuri as he was entering the 3-C classroom after lunchtime that Thursday. He was just walking through the door when she bumped into him in her hurry to leave the room. Yuri looked flustered, ready to apologize profusely as she raised her head, but her face turned red the moment she saw that it was him that she had bumped into.

"Hey there," said Naoki, smiling nervously.

Yuri looked breathless. "I'm s-sorry for bumping into you like that!"

"No, that's fine," he said. "I wasn't looking where I'm going. Are you okay?"

"I'm f-fine." Yuri attempted to smile as she brushed away a lock of hair from her face. For Naoki, it felt like they were meeting each other all over again.

"Anyway, you were going somewhere, right . . . ?"

He gestured outside the room. Yuri snapped to attention as she remembered what she was supposed to do. "Oh, yes, I was g-going to go to the restroom. E-Excuse me."

"Sure, go right ahead!" he said, standing aside to let her pass. For a moment, he considered following through with the thought of intercepting her halfway when she came back, but he decided to let things run their course for now.

When Yuri returned five minutes later, Naoki simply sat in his chair, wondering if he should continue their interaction earlier. It was the opening that he needed to break the tension between them, he knew, and he did not want it to go to waste.

Once again, Yuri seemed to do his work for him as she spoke up. "How have you been? I apologize if I haven't b-been talking to you too much over the past days."

Naoki hid his surprise with a short laugh. "Don't worry about that, I'm doing fine. How about you?"

"I'm feeling slightly better. C-Compared to before, I mean."

"That's good to hear. I was actually really worried that I made you feel worse. You know, after my last visit and all."

"No, no, you didn't!" Yuri managed to laugh a bit nervously. "I was just r-really embarrassed because you had to see my clothes w-with those stains and all. I can get a little c-clumsy sometimes with how I work. . ."

Once again, Yuri pressed her hand against her forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. Naoki observed this gesture keenly; it was indeed the same arm that wore the sleeve with the stains.

"That's okay," he said, smiling. "I'm just glad I'm able to talk to you again."

In no time at all, the two of them began speaking to each other more, at least until lunchtime ended and their classes resumed. It was as if nothing had ever happened, as if one of them had simply been sick and was absent for a few days before returning to school. Though Naoki was happy about it all, the pressing matter of finding out what Yuri might be hiding dampened his spirits a little. The thought hung a veil of foreboding around the two of them, something that he could feel whenever his mind brushed against the thought—and somehow, he sensed that Yuri felt it, too.

When school ended that day, the two of them lingered for a while near the gates. Other students passed them by, their spirits not dampened by the late afternoon chill as they made their way downtown. Kenta, who had just finished talking with some of his friends on the basketball varsity team, waved goodbye at them as he made his way home. Long after their classmates had left, the two of them sat on a bench near the gates, speaking and catching up.

"I really miss our discussions," Naoki admitted after a while. "I haven't read _Markov_ in a while, so I've tried binge-reading some of the old ones for a while. I swear, _Hallowed_ gets better every time I reread it."

"A-About that. . ." Yuri fidgeted anxiously. "I may have, um . . . read in advance."

"In advance?" Naoki repeated, slightly confused at first. "Oh, you mean you continued reading_ Markov_?"

"Yes, and I'm really sorry for that!" Yuri cried out, looking as if she had just uttered a disgusting remark. "I didn't know w-what to do, and I couldn't resist, so I—"

"No, no, no," said Naoki. "It's fine, Yuri. Don't apologize for that. It's not like that's gonna mess up any of our future discussions, right?

"But—"

"Yuri, it's okay."

A short silence fell. Yuri still looked unsure on what to say. To further calm her down, Naoki went on. "You know, you remind me of my mom. There are times when we'd watch some T.V. series together, and she'd feel guilty for watching new episodes while I'm in school. I'd come home and she'd apologize immediately for being two or three episodes ahead of me," he said with a chuckle.

In spite of her nervousness, Yuri laughed a little as well; Naoki could tell that she was relieved that he had let her in. Encouraged by this, he went on, "And there was this one time when Kenta, Daisuke and I started getting into this nice anime series back in middle school. What we didn't know was that Daisuke already had the manga that the series was based from, and he knew more about what was gonna happen than Kenta or I did. While we were watching, he would 'accidentally' let a couple of spoilers loose by implying what would happen. Well, Kenta might seem slow at times, but he's smarter than he looks. When he figured out the spoilers on his own, he threw a fit and stopped watching with us because he knew that any more spoilers would drive him up the wall."

Yuri looked on in wonder. "I never thought I would relate to Kenta in any way. I mean, I wouldn't want to be spoiled on what I'm reading, too." She sighed guiltily. "But I s-suppose I shouldn't be saying that, not when I'm the one r-reading in advance. . ."

"Hey, you may have done that, but you haven't spoiled anything for me or anyone, okay?" he stated with a gentle tone. "Anyway, even though Kenta continued watching on his own, I stuck with Daisuke because it was nice to have someone explaining some of the stuff that was going on sometimes. I mean, look at me—I don't exactly look like an anime fan who knows a lot, right? Sometimes, especially with the ones that have a lot of action and fighting and whatnot, it can be hard keeping track of some things, because it's a bit different from reading."

"Oh, I know what you mean," Yuri admitted. "It's one of the reasons why I can't seem to g-get into manga and anime."

"Well, if we ever want help with that, we can always ask Daisuke and his good friend Natsuki, right? Who knows? Maybe we can get them and the others to become interested in reading horror novels! Do you think _The Portrait of Markov_ is a good way to start things off for them?"

"P-Perhaps," said Yuri, her eyes twinkling as she grinned. As happy as he was with the fact that he managed to speak with her again, Naoki remembered the pressing issue he would eventually need to address. Staring into Yuri's lavender eyes and watching her timid but wonderful smile, he found it hard to believe that she might be suffering from something. Then again, Tsuru Kobayashi was a testament to just that, and he dearly hoped there was no one else among the people he knew that was going through a similar ordeal.


	38. Chapter 38 - Victim of the Currents

**CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT – VICTIM OF THE CURRENTS (MoniKenta)**

The sound of her shoes tapping on the stairs with each step she took, the sensation of the handrail's coldness against her hand, the ambient sounds coming from outside the house and within the kitchen area—Monika observed all these things closely, anticipating if there was a change in them that would signify that this day's routine would be different from the others. So far, she saw and heard nothing new. Breakfast would be waiting downstairs along with her mother, and then the car ride to school would follow. There would be silence all the way. Conversations never lasted long with her mother, and her father would get up from bed a bit later than they did; Mr. Fujita would punctuate the silence with small talk that she appreciated, but that always came to an end when she arrived at school.

Today, however, there was a slight change in the atmosphere as her mother spoke up during breakfast. "Are you going out tonight? We'll be having some guests over, and I want you to be there," she said casually.

"Guests?" Monika paused for a moment, thinking about who would be coming.

"Yes. The clients we've talked to in the city, to be exact," her mother replied, taking a sip of coffee. "We'll be discussing our plans over dinner."

"Should I be there?"

"Yes. Are you familiar with someone named Takeo Kimura?"

Monika looked up in surprise. "Yes, he's a schoolmate of ours, and the vice president of our debate club. Why?"

"His parents are our clients," said her mother smoothly. "He was there when we first met up with them in the city, and his parents mentioned that he was taking up high school in Koizumi Academy, like you were. When he heard what our family name was, he asked if we were related to anyone named Monika Steinbeck, by chance."

_So that's what Takeo meant by talking to me again soon_. Takeo had been rather cordial since his last encounter with her and Kenta, and he even relented when it came to granting their junior members in the debate club a short reprieve after the one Monika had requested before they began bunkering down in preparation for the nationals. Monika had welcomed the second break happily on behalf of the rest of the club, but she admitted that it seemed odd for Takeo to go out of his own way to do that. Now, she knew why.

"So did you guys talk about me?" she asked her mother.

"A little. Takeo spoke glowingly of you and your leadership in the . . . debate club, is that it? Anyway, when we asked his parents to come over for dinner to discuss our plans, we invited him to come along, and we told them you'll be there as well."

"I see." Monika toyed with her food as she mused on her thoughts. "What time are they going to show up?"

"We told them that seven-thirty was a good enough time. Why? Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"No, not really. I'll be there, I guess," said Monika, giving her a small smile. As she continued eating, she imagined how Kenta would react to this development.

* * *

When she arrived at school later that morning, a small distraction gave her a bit of reprieve from thinking too much about it all. An announcement from the faculty told everyone that the school's annual cultural festival would be taking place early next month. As a result, the student body was practically giddy with excitement. Monika shared their enthusiasm; cultural festivals gave everyone a time and chance to shine, and most students were more than willing to lend a hand in shaping the event. Clubs and groups were tasked with opening booths and organizing proceedings for both students and outsiders to attend. A lot of time would then be spent crafting the decorations and smoothing out things—practice for a play, choreography for a dance presentation, or plans for what a specific booth will be—but it felt less like a chore and more like free time off of classes. Even if the festival would only happen for three days, students always made the most out of it and brightened up the school in their own unique ways.

Focusing her thoughts on the festival, Monika surveyed her classmates with warmth as they used lunchtime to start planning what they would be doing for the festival. Already, those who were skilled in drawing and crafting were tasked to decorate booths, while the ones who knew something about cooking began debating on what food their booth would be serving. Some discussed what themes the booths would have, or who they wanted to impress. A few planned on attending other schools in the city that would be holding their own festivals. It all heralded incoming days punctuated by extracurricular activity, a welcome change of pace following the exams and the apprehension brought by the school fire weeks ago.

One of her friends, however, was noticeably distancing herself from the proceedings. Monika frowned with concern as she watched Sayori staring out the window, knowing that it was unlike her to be this impassive while excitement was in the air. Sensing that something was wrong once again, she walked towards her.

"Sayori?" she called out.

Sayori didn't flinch. Her eyes remained transfixed outside the classroom windows. Though Monika knew that she was prone to occasionally zoning out like this in and out of class, she became even more concerned nonetheless. She placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "Sayori?"

This time, Sayori blinked and shook her head a little, as if a trance upon her had been broken. "Oh, Moni, h-hello there!" she said, grinning apologetically. "I must've been spacing out again, huh?"

"You were," said Monika, smiling as she sat down opposite Sayori. Her open reaction warded off her worry a bit. "Had a good lunch?"

"Yep," replied Sayori. "Everyone was so busy discussing what they're gonna do with the festival, but I just listened to them. I didn't know what I should say. I've been thinking about other stuff. . ."

"I hope nothing's wrong. How are you and Akihiro?"

Sayori sighed. "I haven't been talking to him again lately. . ." she admitted with a guilty tone.

Monika looked at her with an expression reminiscent of a mother catching her child with a hand in the cookie jar. "Again?" she asked.

"I'm sorry!" replied Sayori hastily. "I was just caught up with thinking about a lot of t-things, that's all. I haven't been feeling the same since the exams."

"I see." Monika smiled to take the sting out of her stern expression. "I didn't think you were stressed or feeling bad, to be honest. You seemed to be doing okay for the past few days. Did something happen?"

"N-Nothing happened, don't worry." Sayori nervously fidgeted with her hands. "I think I let the pressure of the exams catch up to me, and it's still here."

Monika patted her arm. "I understand. Just . . . don't forget what we talked about before, okay?"

"Yep! Don't worry, I haven't forgotten, Moni," said Sayori. "I don't want to make anyone feel bad by talking to you or Akihiro or anyone else while I'm still like this, so I just need to have everything under control before that. It's a bit tough, though. Especially after what happened at my apartment last week. . ."

"Why? What happened there?" asked Monika.

Sayori looked hesitant and even anxious for a moment. "Is it okay if I tell you about it some other time? It's something that really got to me, and I don't know if I can talk about it j-just yet. . ."

"Oh, I see. That's okay," Monika smiled reassuringly. "We'll just discuss it when you're ready. Anyway, everyone's already pitching ideas for the festival. Do you have any? I'm sure you have a few colorful ideas in that creative noggin of yours!"

"I'll try thinking about some tonight," said Sayori, laughing a little. "If you want, I can just message you online or text you when I've thought up of some. I need a bit more time to sort things out in my head."

"Sounds good!" Monika gave her a thumbs-up. "I'm gonna be having dinner with my parents and some guests tonight, so I might be a bit late in replying. Will that be okay with you?"

Sayori beamed. "Yep! I understand. Just get back to me when you're free."

"Sure thing!"

* * *

Kenta looked incredulous when Monika mentioned her mother's words later that day. Given that there was no club meeting for today, she managed to meet up with him a bit earlier and tell him about dinner with Takeo and his parents. Together, they sat down on a bench and conversed about it in silence.

"When you told me that the dolt was letting everyone else in your club off the hook for a few more days, I knew something was up," Kenta mused. "He probably thinks it's gonna be a date or something."

"Hardly," said Monika. "It's just going to be a business meeting or something, the type my parents usually go to. I'll just be sitting there eating dinner and listening to talks about construction costs and infrastructure and permits and whatnot, and I'm certain Takeo will be doing the same."

"That sounds boring," stated Kenta. "No offense to your parents, of course!"

"Don't worry, I think it's a rather tedious affair, too," said Monika with a laugh. "But I knew it was bound to happen—going with my parents during one of their work discussions, I mean. Mom always said that I need to start familiarizing myself with their work sooner or later, because I might be helping them with the company and everything in the future. I suppose this is the first step."

"Yeah, I guess that's part of the reason why they wanna take you with them when they move, huh?" Kenta let out a sad sigh.

Monika reached out toward his hand and held it tenderly. "There you go again, worrying about that," she said with a soothing tone.

"I'm sorry," said Kenta guiltily. "I just have a lot on my mind right now, that's all. My buddies are a bit quiet nowadays, and with Akihiro asking me for help and all. . ."

Monika looked at him in surprise. "Akihiro, asking for help? Is something wrong?"

"Well, he's just worried about Sayori again," said Kenta. "He said that she wasn't exactly the same after the exams, which is weird since she seemed fine when we got together with the others, right?"

"Oh, yes. I've talked to Sayori earlier, and she did admit that she's not exactly at a hundred percent nowadays. She did assure me that she was alright, though, and I told her that she's welcome to talk to any of us if she needs someone to listen to."

"Glad to hear that she's okay. I told Akihiro that maybe that's just how Sayori rolls sometimes, that she needs some space every now and then. It might be weird considering they've been friends for a long time, but I guess it's not impossible for stuff like that to happen. He was worried that she might be starting to have some issues with him and all, but I told him that it doesn't seem to be like that, so he shouldn't worry too much about it."

"I'm confident that Sayori and Akihiro will pull through," said Monika. "High school romances often have rough times ahead, but their relationship will help them see those through."

"Yeah, for sure," Kenta mumbled. When silence stretched between them for a moment, he changed tack in what Monika guessed was an attempt to lighten the mood in the atmosphere following his irritation at Takeo and their concern for Sayori and Akihiro.

"So, the festival. D'you have any plans with your classmates?"

"Nothing much. Most of the time, I'm just listening to them plan everything out," replied Monika. "As for the debate club, I don't know if we'll be doing another debate demonstration like we did last year, and I don't know if Takeo will be willing to spare some of the club's budget for that."

"Figures. How about any extracurricular activities or presentations? Some of my pals in 3-C and 3-D are thinking about grouping up together to do a small concert. If my vocal pipes were any good, I'd try singing a few songs."

"I'll make sure to attend that concert then, no matter what you'll be singing."

"Really? I figured I'll just be jumping around and yelling onstage. You sure about watching that kind of performance?" asked Kenta, chuckling.

"Of course!" Monika grinned at him sweetly. "Your spirit in a performance counts more than any talent you might have in singing."

Kenta blushed. "I guess you're right about that. . . Wait, how about you?"

Monika's smile faded a little as she looked at him with mild puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"You ever think about doing a musical number for the festival? I mean, you can play the piano really well, and you can sure sing better than any of us."

Now it was Monika's cheeks that turned red. "That never crossed my mind, to be honest. Playing for you alone was good enough for me," she jested, laughing. "The last time I played the piano in front of a crowd was during a talent show in elementary school. Mom convinced me to do it." She smiled at the memory, of how her friends and their parents had applauded her attempt at one of the songs that her mother used to play. Simpler times, indeed.

"You didn't perform for a crowd anymore after that?" asked Kenta.

Monika shook her head. "Sometimes teachers invite me to play for school events once they get wind of the fact that I can play, but I never thought about doing it again. I guess it's one of my introvert tendencies. You'd think that I should be used to being in front of a lot of people because I'm in the debate club, right? I guess playing the piano's just . . . different."

"I guess it's like what you said, about putting your spirit into your performance and all," Kenta mused. "Yeah, I can understand why that is a whole lot different from debates and stuff. You're putting your heart and soul out for other people to see, and if that's not personal as heck, I don't know what is."

"That's a nice way to put it," said Monika softly.

"Then I should be happy that I was the only one who managed to watch your last 'concert' ever, huh?" Kenta joked with a chuckle.

Monika pinched his arm, laughing along with him. "Well, let's just wait and see if it's indeed the last one ever." She took a look at her watch. "Mr. Fujita should be arriving soon. I'll just tell you how everything went later tonight, okay?"

"No worries," said Kenta, nodding. "I just hope Wonder Boy Takeo doesn't try being a wise guy at the dinner. Just because I'm not around doesn't mean he gets to do that!"

"Don't worry. With our parents around, I'm sure he'll be on his best behavior," said Monika reassuringly.

* * *

"Do you think these will fit you?"

Monika stared at the clothes that her mother was holding out in front of her; a peach-colored long-sleeved cotton blouse and a matching white pencil skirt. She recognized them immediately.

"Those are yours, right?" she asked.

"Yes, some of your father's old gifts to me," her mother replied, smiling as she looked at them. "You'd look really beautiful in them, I'd wager."

"Well, they are beautiful," Monika acknowledged. She reached out to touch their fabric, running her fingers against them. "And yes, I'm sure they're just the right size. Are they going to be the clothes I'll wear for tonight?"

"Yes. I thought I'd take the liberty of finding you something suitable to wear. Some of the clothes in your wardrobe felt a tad too casual," said her mother, "but I also didn't want you to wear something too formal. This is a dinner, not a gala."

"I see." _Leave it to Mom to decide on something before asking for my opinion. _Still, Monika knew that there wasn't much harm done when it came to mere clothes. "I'm gonna be preparing in a few minutes. You can just leave the clothes here."

"Sure thing. I'll go prepare as well." With that, her mother laid the clothes out smoothly on her bed. "Honestly, I don't know why your father insists on taking a bath first. He always takes a lot longer than I do."

When her mother had left her room, Monika stood up and started prepping, taking out a dry towel from her wardrobe and perusing the clothes she was to wear one more time. Certain families still wore traditional Japanese clothing both for formal occasions and casual gatherings, but Monika's family was one of those that had gotten used to more Westernized traditions. A businessman of German descent, Kristofer Steinbeck brought with him the culture of his home country when he married Fujiko Suzuki, and this culture rubbed off on the name they chose to give Monika when she was born. Monika was always curious as to what her name would have been if she had ended up being a full-blooded Japanese girl, though she had no qualms with the one she ended up with; a bit of research told her that her name was Scandinavian in origin, was derived from "Monica," and stemmed from the word "advisor" in Latin and "unique" in Greek. In that regard, Monika often imagined with amusement that her role as a model student who always gave help and guidance to others made her name fit really well.

Mrs. Fujita knocked on her room door around thirty minutes later, just as she had finished dressing up. Like her mother had expected, the clothes fit her perfectly, and she had taken some time to admire how good they looked in front of the nearby mirror.

"Miss Monika, your parents told me that they would just be waiting for you downstairs," Mrs. Fujita stated politely when she answered the door. "The guests are expected to arrive shortly."

"I see. Thank you, Mrs. Fujita."

Five minutes later, Monika stepped out of her room and made her way downstairs. She had decided not to put too much makeup on, instead applying only soft touches of foundation and blush and skipping any lipstick entirely. Her parents were sitting on the cushioned chairs in the living room, basking in the orange glow of the lights overhead. Her mother looked nothing short of immaculate in a black satin sheath dress, with pearls dangling from her ears and her neck glowing with a beautiful silver necklace; her brown hair, like Monika's, was coiffed up in a soft-swept ponytail. To her mother's left, her father looked like the true businessman he was in a crisp black blazer with a grey shirt underneath and a pair of matching pants; his black hair was stylized with just the right amount of wax, giving him a youthful look that belied the creases on his face. Though Monika imagined that her relatively ordinary facial touch-up would earn her a bit of criticism from her mother, she was surprised when she actually gave her an approving nod.

"You look splendid," she told her as she reached the foot of the stairs.

"I agree. It's like you two are simply siblings, dear," her father stated. "The hair, the eyes, everything."

"Thanks," said Monika, smiling at the two of them. Had she not known that the evening was scheduled for guests to come over, she felt like it was one of those instances where the three of them would bond over dinner on a quiet but meaningful night out. Simpler times, indeed.

When Takeo and his parents showed up ten minutes later, new life was breathed into the house for a moment. Takeo looked like a younger version of his father—tall and handsome with short brown hair and pale blue eyes; the similarities in their appearance was made even more evident by the fact that they were both wearing similar articles of formal clothing: grey blazers, white shirts, and black pants and shoes. Mrs. Kimura, meanwhile, was shorter than either of them, with an oval-shaped face and long hair that had a lighter shade of brown; the lavender peplum dress and black heels she wore, however, made her no less stylish and beautiful.

Mr. and Mrs. Kimura exchanged pleasantries with Monika's parents, shaking hands and discussing trivial things such as the weather and whatnot—a basic routine before getting down to business, Monika knew. Takeo politely shook hands with her parents before greeting Monika with a casual grin. Monika smiled civilly back, taking note of how formal and serious his bearing was even outside of school.

Dinner became a cordial affair that was punctuated by talks about recent events, both families' exploits in business, and an occasional question about Kristofer Steinbeck's home country. Monika chose to listen more as she ate the palatable fare that Mrs. Fujita had cooked up with their other helpers for the past few hours. She helped herself to the tofu soup and daikon salad that served as appetizers, since she would be skipping most of what the main course had to offer—miso-glazed black cod, chicken katsu and beef stir-fry—due to her vegetarian lifestyle.

Inevitably, the conversation shifted towards her. "So, Monika," said Mrs. Kimura, "we've heard a great deal about you from Takeo here. He tells us that you're one of the brightest students at your school."

"Indeed she is," Takeo added. Across the table, Monika saw her parents smile proudly.

"I'm certain that a girl of your academic caliber has a lot of choices laid out once you graduate high school and take that next big step," Mrs. Kimura continued. "I don't know if you've spoken to your parents yet about this, but what are your plans for college?"

"Oh." Monika wiped her mouth gently with a napkin before replying. "I haven't thought about that yet, Mrs. Kimura. I'm still a junior high school student, after all."

"Wait, really?" Mrs. Kimura looked genuinely astounded. "I was always under the impression that you were a senior high school student, like Takeo!"

Takeo sighed lazily. "Mother, I've mentioned that a few times before. You might have just failed to notice or remember."

"Maybe, maybe," said Mrs. Kimura, laughing lightly. "I apologize for that, Monika."

"It's okay, ma'am," said Monika, laughing along with them.

"Actually, we were thinking of enrolling her in Osaka," her mother spoke up suddenly. Monika looked at her with surprise, though she did not say anything yet. "I mean, we did mention relocating there soon and all, and we thought that it'd be convenient for her to take up college there once she graduates."

"Ah, yes, there are quite a few university choices there that you can peruse," Mr. Kimura noted. "But why Osaka? I mean, wouldn't Tokyo be a better choice for relocation in terms of distance? The University of Tokyo is where we're planning to enroll Takeo. At least he's closer to home that way."

"We had thought about that before, but Fujiko and I decided to try and cover more ground conveniently by setting up in Osaka first," Monika's father replied. "Who knows? If we can keep the business in good shape, we might be able to set up an office in Tokyo soon. But since Osaka is where our new residential address will be, it's more opportune to enroll our Monika there instead of leaving her here. We've already talked to one of our acquaintances at the university, and he said he'll do his best to make things convenient for us."

"But of course, it's not final yet," Monika finally chimed in. "I mean, I've still got one more year of high school remaining, and a lot can happen in that span of time. I'll start measuring everything once the last few months of senior year hits."

Takeo spoke up in a would-be calm tone. "Monika is just concerned about the friends that she would be leaving behind if she moves to Osaka. This is, after all, the city that she grew up in, so it's a given that she has made quite a lot of friends here."

Monika eyed him across the table, wondering if he would be mentioning anything else. "True, I don't know where my friends will be taking up college, and it'll be a sad experience to be separated from them," she added. "Of course, I'm not saying that I will be basing my future decisions strictly off of them, but . . ."

"Well, such is life," Takeo mused, shrugging. "People come and go, and sometimes we can never make the choices that we want to make. I'm certain that your friends—or at least most of them—would understand."

There it was. "Yes, I'm sure they would," Monika said tentatively.

When dinner ended, everyone settled down in the living room to finally start discussing business over a bottle of high-class brandy that Monika's father had graciously bought for the occasion. Not feeling up to listening to her parents talk about the family business at the moment, Monika decided to distance herself from everyone else, sitting some ways away and listening only idly. Takeo also seemed to be rather uninterested with what his parents were discussing with hers, though he sat next to his mother and feigned listening in with a lazy look on his face. From what Monika heard from their conversation, Takeo's parents were apparently looking to have an insurance and business center constructed with the help of her parents' company. Depending on how long her parents would oversee the project, Monika imagined if she would stay longer here in the city after she graduates. Then again, they could always send some of their juniors to oversee things instead.

When things grew rather tedious, Monika stood up and made her way quietly to the nearby veranda that sat next to the garden at the back of the house, exiting through a sliding glass door that sat past the staircase. As soon as she stepped outside, the evening air cut through her like the coldest of knives, and she took a moment to thank the long sleeves of the blouse her mother had given her. She leaned against the veranda's cold metal railings and looked around. In the darkness, the garden looked rather somber, its vibrant colors lost in the dark purple of the evening and the faint orange of the lights seeping through the windows. The neighborhood's ambient noises were both tranquil and resonant at the same time—the sound of vehicles passing by on the street, indistinct voices from neighboring houses, and the trees rustling whenever a faint breeze blew. Monika had a number of memories that took place where she stood, and where she was looking at. As a child, she would run around and play with her mother in the garden while her father watched from the veranda. At times, she would also sit here for an hour or two as her mother read her some stories while they drank glasses of orange juice. When she grew into a teenager, she would retreat out here to calm her mind so that she could write poetry or read a book in peace. Simpler times, indeed.

Now, though, what her mother had said made her feel left out, almost drained. It was one thing to plan on moving out and telling her only later on, but for them to actually start deciding on where she wanted to go for college . . . Monika did not know what exactly her parents' stand was. On one hand, they let her live alone for a very long time while they took care of business elsewhere, giving her freedom on what she would do and not bothering to check on her as frequently or meaningfully as parents should. On the other hand, now that they were here, they seemed to be imposing their decisions upon her without even consulting her about them, instead going by the notion that she would go along with them just fine like she had always done. Once again, she felt like she was being trapped.

Behind her, she heard the veranda's sliding door open. She turned around to see Takeo walking towards her, holding a glass of brandy. She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"I was going to bring you a drink, too. But I imagined that you might not be a fan of liquor," Takeo said casually.

"You're right about that," replied Monika. "And even if I was, we're still not yet at the legal age, right?"

Takeo smiled. "_Au contraire_, I turned twenty two weeks ago. Besides, I've already had a few drinks in the past. No harm in drinking within the privacy of your own home."

Again, Monika felt surprised. "You had your twentieth birthday? Was it on a school day?"

"A Wednesday," said Takeo with a nod.

"I don't think I've ever known when your birthday was. Maybe it's because I've never heard you tell anyone," Monika pointed out.

"I don't consider some things worth telling, not when there are more important things to address." Takeo took a sip of brandy and nodded approvingly. "That's some nice brandy. Reminds me of the bottles Father keeps in his study."

Monika stared at him curiously. "Takeo . . . don't you ever feel like you're letting your life slip away sometimes? You're often so engrossed in academics and other serious things that there are times when you forget to have a bit of fun. Schoolwork and the debate club, that's important, to be sure. But there's more to life than that, you know?"

Takeo sighed, his lips curving into a smirk. "Is that one of the philosophies that Mr. Yamaguchi of 3-C has imparted on you?"

"I figured it out on my own, but yes, Kenta is often there to remind me of it," said Monika. "And it helps, I might add."

"Well, as much as I don't see eye to eye with your redheaded boyfriend, I can respect that kind of philosophy," Takeo muttered. "It is typical of us youths to think like that. I guess it just doesn't work with everyone, though. What I do right now, some might call it overly serious or devoid of leisure, but it is my way of preparing for bigger things in life. A good foundation, if you will."

"But aren't there times when you feel that . . . that you're dragging others along with your ideology?" asked Monika. "I don't mean to offend you or anything, because I can understand and respect where you're coming from, but there are moments when you tend to expect everyone to fall in line with your standards and expect them to be . . . well, perfect. While driving others to always do their best is a good thing, it can get quite taxing for everyone involved sometimes."

Takeo chuckled. "I suppose I am guilty of that. It's just how I carry on with everything, I guess." He took another sip of brandy, let out a sigh of satisfaction, and continued. "The thing is that I want success to be truly earned. I want to be able to hold my head up high when I achieve that success, and I want to show others that they can do that, too. Does it sound pretentious? Conceited, even? Well, it depends on the person listening, but that's what I believe in."

He traced the rim of his glass idly with his finger, gazing up at the night sky. "I guess that's why I don't sympathize that well with Mr. Yamaguchi. He might presume that I think poorly of him simply because he won you over and I didn't. It's nothing that crude. No, he simply strikes me as the sort of person who would boast with confidence about things that he never really fought hard for."

"Kenta isn't like that," said Monika defensively. "I know that his general demeanor doesn't sit well with everyone, but he's a genuine person through and through. From what he has told me, and from what I know of him, he definitely fought hard to become the person that he is today, and no one can take that away from him."

"Well, he does rub people the wrong way with how he acts most of the time, being noisy in the corridors and showboating whenever he messes around with his friends. I know, because I've seen him acting like that a few times before." Takeo took another swig of brandy, staring ahead idly. "Also, I don't put much stock in rumors, but I've heard that he's become even less popular among some of our schoolmates since you two started going out. After all, he and I were not the only ones who admired you."

"I'm sure Kenta doesn't care what others might think of him," Monika stated, though she hid her own uncertainty at the thought; there had been times in the past when Kenta had mentioned being talked about behind his back because of his relationship with her. "We let those rumors slide, wherever they may come from. People can choose to believe and think what they want to say, and we'll do the same."

Takeo scoffed a little, emptying the rest of his brandy in one gulp. "I just don't want him to weigh you down, Monika. High school romances can work sometimes, and they can be the foundation for something bigger in the future, but they can also be sad memories, moments where the question of 'what if' will bother you for a very long time. I don't know what Mr. Yamaguchi has planned for his own future, but I don't want that to hold you back. You're a smart girl, Monika. Hopefully, you get what I'm saying."

"Don't worry, I get it," said Monika incredulously. "But just to make myself clear, Takeo, I know what I'm doing. I get to decide whether or not a person is weighing me down, and I'm positively sure that Kenta isn't doing that with me. I'm sorry if this sounds harsh, but I don't need you or my parents or anyone else making my own decisions for me."

With that, she stalked off in a huff, leaving Takeo behind to mull on her words. Frustration welled up inside her, at the idea that no matter how hard she tried, there were always people like Takeo and her parents who thought that they could take the reins and decide everything on her behalf. College in Osaka, her relationship with Kenta, the maintenance of her life as a model student and daughter, Monika became fed up with thinking about it all. She tried hard to walk as calmly as possible, not letting her footsteps land too hard and give away her exasperation.

The living room area was ringing with mild laughter when she walked in. No doubt her parents and Takeo's were exchanging some sort of jest fueled by the gradual onset of brandy. They looked around when they heard her approach.

"Oh, Monika, where have you been?" her mother asked.

"I just went to the veranda to get some fresh air," replied Monika, giving them a polite smile. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm feeling too well at the moment. If you'll excuse me, I'll just rest my head upstairs in my room."

"Sure thing, sweetie," said her father, waving his hand benevolently.

After exchanging some final and brief pleasantries with Takeo's parents, Monika went back as quickly as she could to her room. Even until she had closed her bedroom door, she did not hear Takeo reemerge from the veranda.

As soon as she sat down at the foot of her bed, she reached for her cellphone and took a look. There was only one message, which Kenta had sent almost two hours ago. "_i hope that dolt doesn't give u trouble. have a gud dinner, eat well!_"

Monika let out a sigh of relief. Though her mind was still smarting from what she had just been through, staring at Kenta's words started to make her feel a bit better. She did, however, notice that Sayori had not texted her at all. Musing that perhaps she was doing alright at the very least, Monika decided to address Kenta first. She texted him back.

"_just got done with everything. can i call you?_"

Kenta's reply was quicker than she had expected it to be; it was apparent that he was waiting for her text. "_sure thing! but is everything ok? _:("

Monika smiled wistfully. "_yes. i just want to hear your voice_ :)"


	39. Chapter 39 - Speaking Out

_A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters._

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE – SPEAKING OUT (SayoHiro)**

With the onset of the school's cultural festival, students everywhere were having a blast planning for what events and booths their respective classes would be organizing. It was the perfect time for groups to showcase their interests in the most creative of ways to schoolmates and any parents or outsiders who would be visiting the proceedings. Everyone knew that the weeks leading up to the festival would be rife with activity, and sometimes professors gave students time off after finishing certain lessons so that they can get their creative juices flowing.

Akihiro had always taken part in planning for such things in the past, usually debating with his other friends about which video game they could use as a theme. For this year's festival, some of his gaming buddies had come up with the idea of creating an RPG-themed scavenger hunt that would span the entire school, complete with costumes, props and scripts. The premise was that they would dress up as NPCs—none-player characters that could be interacted with in games—and give participants certain quests to find target objects or "defeat" cardboard boss monsters, with quest rewards coming in the form of food and practical giveaways like school supplies. Akihiro liked the premise a lot and made a suggestion to have _Dungeon Delvers_ be the game the scavenger hunt would follow, a suggestion that was seconded by some of his buddies who also played the game online.

"It's gonna be a tough one to pull off, though. We'll need more manpower," said one of their classmates.

"Maybe we can ask for help from students in other classes?" asked another.

"We'll see what we can do. Once Goro starts writing down the scripts, we'll find out just how many characters we'll need for the race."

"Are we gonna do factions and stuff?"

"That depends on the script, too. I'll start writing later tonight, don't worry. You guys just focus on having the event approved."

In a way, Akihiro was glad that the announcement about the festival had made him feel less worried for Sayori. When it came to thinking up of creative ideas for booths, Sayori could always be counted on to give her two cents about what her classmates can do. He hoped that the festival's onset will help ease her own personal problems by letting her do something that she is more at home with. With any luck, that would help her feel better and let him be able to talk properly to her once again.

All the while, Kenta had stuck with him both online and at school, giving him some brotherly advice while also voicing his own concerns with Monika. Akihiro still had no idea what might be brewing between those two recently, but he refrained from asking outright so as not to put any pressure on Kenta. Still, he did not need to prod too much for him to say anything; Kenta was naturally vocal about mostly anything, and Akihiro could always rely on him to speak his mind whenever the two of them weren't busy with school and other commitments at home. It was during these conversations that Kenta slowly began voicing his musings about what might be going on with Daisuke and Naoki, with the latter now joining them for lunch more sporadically.

"So, what're your plans for the festival?" asked Kenta during lunchtime the next day.

"Well, a few of my friends pitched the idea of a scavenger hunt," replied Akihiro. "I dunno how many other classes might be going for the same thing, but we'll make ours a bit unique by using an RPG as a theme."

Kenta raised his eyebrows for a moment. As realization dawned on his face, he laughed a little. "For a moment, I thought you meant rocket launchers. What game are you guys gonna do?"

"Well, that'll be up to my friend who's gonna do the writing," replied Akihiro, poking at his lunch tray idly with a fork. "I did suggest that they go with _Dungeon Delvers_, though. Are you familiar with the game?"

"Seen it on the net a couple of times before, yeah. Reminds me of _Fiend_ back in middle school, the RPG that started it all for some of us," said Kenta. "But I never got around to playing those kinds of games for too long—never could keep up with the constant farming. Most of the computer games I tried out were first-person shooters."

"Ah, one of the tried and true genres, eh?" said Akihiro with an approving nod. "RPG is my favorite genre to play, but I also have a few FPS games on the side when I get tired of leveling up my characters."

"Always good to branch out sometimes, right?"

"Yep! Anyway, if our RPG scavenger hunt pushes through, I'm guessing that we'll need extra hands to make it happen. Props, costumes, extras, stuff like that. It's gonna be a pretty busy stint. How about you guys?"

Kenta shrugged. "A few of my buddies in 3-C and 3-D are gonna be doing a concert, I think. If only my singing skills were up to par, I'd try out for a song or two," he said amusedly.

"Same here, I don't think I can sing or play any kind of musical instrument even if my life depended on it," said Akihiro, laughing.

Kenta laughed with him. "Well, that's why there are other avenues for blokes like us."

When they had finished eating and were about to go back to their respective classrooms, Kenta stopped Akihiro for a moment. "Do you wanna go somewhere after school with Daisuke and Naoki? I don't have a lot to do at home, and I'm guessing that it'd be a good time to just stay someplace and talk and maybe eat."

"Oh. Well, I don't have a lot to do later, so count me in," said Akihiro readily.

"Nice one! Yeah, I think it just might be a good idea because . . . well, I've been getting the feeling that something's up with everyone," Kenta mused. "I haven't heard from Daisuke in a while now, and even Naoki's starting to become a bit more serious. I don't know, man. It feels like something's just off and they're not telling me about it. Not that I'm forcing them to spill any beans, mind you."

"I understand. I do hope everyone's doing fine," said Akihiro. "Maybe things will take a lighter turn once the next get-together happens."

"I hope so, too," said Kenta. "Monika's just busy with a lot of things, so the next outing is still up in the air as we speak. She told me that their debate team's gonna start prepping to join the national competition soon, so that could take a while. Anyway, where do you guys wanna go later? Arcade? Mall?"

"I don't know," Akihiro admitted; both venues brought back memories of dates with Sayori, and it made him feel wistful. "Let's just meet up at the gates after school, and we can work on it from there."

Kenta flashed a thumbs-up. "Sounds like a plan. I'll talk to the other two later and make sure they come along."

* * *

To Akihiro's surprise, Daisuke and Naoki were indeed present for the impromptu outing, flanking Kenta as the three of them made their way to the gates. Akihiro saw easy smiles in both of their faces, though if Kenta's words were to be believed, they might be hiding something underneath. Akihiro knew that might not be too far off—Sayori was another testament to happy exteriors concealing inner turmoil and personal worries.

"Glad you guys could make it," he said, grinning.

"Well, Kenta here was practically begging us to tag along," Daisuke said jokingly, jabbing his thumb in Kenta's direction. "It felt sad to see him like that—we're his best buddies, after all!"

"Hey, I only insisted because I really wanted you two dolts to be here for this, alright?" said Kenta grumpily. "Think of it as a boys' night out!"

"It's not yet nighttime, Kenta," said Naoki, laughing.

"Ah, you get my point," said Kenta, waving his hand. "Anyway, so where d'you guys wanna lounge around? Wanna blast a few virtual heads off at the arcade? Or wear out your legs at the mall? How about a cheeseburger eating contest at _Big Tom's_? Are you familiar with the place, Akihiro?"

"_Big Tom's_ is one of our favorite places to be. Serves some real mean burgers, too," Daisuke told Akihiro.

"I might've heard of the place once or twice in the past, I'm not sure," said Akihiro. "Anyway, if we're talking cheeseburgers, sign me up!"

"And me," Naoki chimed in. "I could use a nice bite of three-cheese right now."

_Big Tom's_ turned out to be a simple diner that served American fast food a couple of blocks away from the mall. Though it was small, it was crowded with a mishmash of office workers and students that were taking advantage of the diner's food and warmth to escape from the autumn chill outside. The four of them managed to squeeze into one of the small booths in the diner's corner that was vacated by a group of other students around five minutes after they had arrived.

"Jeez, man, I forgot how much you actually take up in seats like these," Daisuke joked at Kenta as the latter sat down next to him. "I think you should eat outside instead."

"_You_ eat outside, ya dolt," Kenta shot back as everyone laughed. "I sure as heck ain't gonna leave my seat, not when I planned all this. Besides, it's not like we have a choice. All the good seats are taken."

"So, how are you guys?" Akihiro asked Daisuke and Naoki when the laughter had died down. "Been seeing you less at lunchtime and all."

"Been doing okay—or as okay as can be," said Daisuke. "Everyone's been busy talking about the festival, and already I've got quite a few people asking me to help with banners for their booths."

"I'm alright as well, thanks for asking," said Naoki. "It's just been a bit of a rough week. A family friend of ours was hospitalized a few days ago."

"What happened?" asked Kenta.

Naoki shifted tentatively in his seat. "Attempted suicide," he said in a low murmur.

There was a collective intake of breath across the booth, belied by the happier sounds inside the diner. The humor that stirred the air only moments earlier vanished like vapor in the air. "Damn. That's . . . that's something," Kenta muttered in a hushed tone.

"I know, right?" Naoki said, sighing. "They found her almost dead at her place. Mom and I were pretty shook up when we visited her at the hospital. We're just hoping that she makes it."

Daisuke shook his head. "Depression's really something, right?"

"It is," Naoki mused. "It definitely is. It's really different from the stuff that you see and read online or on the news, let me tell you. Just makes you think about how it would feel if it was your family member or loved one that did something like that."

Silence fell between the four of them for a moment, their mirth momentarily subdued by such sobering news. Kenta was the first to speak up again. "You know, that's the reason why I wanted you two to tag along with me and Akihiro," he told Daisuke and Naoki. "I wanted us all to have some fun, but hearing about stuff like that is giving me this . . . this gut feeling that something's off, you know? Akihiro and I have been talking about Monika and Sayori for the past few days, and it kinda made me think if something's up with everyone else as well. It might just be me being on edge from stuff that's been happening to me too, but it could actually be something. Monika showed me how important it is to always communicate with friends, because you'll never know when someone might need a listening ear. It might sound lame coming from a guy like me, but trust me, I know what I'm talking about.

"Naoki, I know that you're with me in class, same as Yuri is. But I ain't always there by your side, and Yuri's not exactly one of our more talkative classmates, so there might be things I'm not aware of. Same goes for you, Daisuke. You're in another class entirely, so there might also be something going on with you and Natsuki."

As he finished speaking, Kenta looked at Daisuke and Naoki expectantly, waiting for them to reply to his words. When the silence only returned and prevailed for a few more moments, however, he sighed gruffly. "Alright, since no one's gonna do any talking yet, I'll start. Yeah, I'm a bit on edge for a number of reasons, and no, it ain't academics or personal stuff at home. I didn't wanna show you guys that I was on edge because I didn't think it'd get me this bad, but it did."

He paused for a moment, looking defeated. "The bottom-line is that Monika will be leaving town."

That caught everyone else's attention. "What?" Akihiro asked, startled. Daisuke and Naoki wore similar expressions of surprise on their faces as they looked at Kenta.

"You heard that right. I dunno when exactly it'll happen, but it's looking pretty certain," Kenta continued. "It's been on my mind for a long time now, ever since Monika admitted it to me. Her parents wanna move out to Osaka, and she's going with them. She's telling me not to worry too much about it because nothing's final yet, but . . . well, it's kinda hard not to, right? Just makes me sad thinking about it. I didn't wanna show how I felt too much because I was still trying to cling on to the idea that maybe it won't push through, but that's a bit of a long shot. Anyway, her parents are staying here in town for a while to take care of a business deal. The clients? Wonder Boy Takeo Kimura's folks. You guys remember Takeo, right? Big dolt, VP of the debate club?"

Akihiro was not too familiar with Takeo Kimura, though Kenta's description of him seemed enough at the moment. "Monika's parents are gonna be staying here to make good on that business deal. That means they won't be leaving from Osaka until everything's settled. So I guess I have Wonder Boy and his folks to thank for stopping Monika from leaving too early." He attempted to smile as he spoke, but the sadness that Akihiro sensed beneath his strong front made the expression come across as a grimace.

Daisuke clapped his hand on his broad shoulder. "Don't worry about it, man," he said supportively. "Maybe Monika's right. Maybe it won't push through in the end, who knows?"

"Yes, and it's never easy to move out to another prefecture," Naoki added. "Besides, maybe she can convince her folks to let her stay. After all, she's been on her own for a long time now. You said so yourself."

"Yeah, that's my biggest hope right now," Kenta muttered, running a hand through his gelled hair. "Monika doesn't wanna talk about it too much, so I don't often ask her about the situation a lot. I wanted to tell you guys about it because . . . well, I didn't want you all to worry when I start moping once Monika leaves," he added with a short laugh.

"Hey, we're here for you, man. You know that," said Daisuke. "Always been that way since middle school."

As Naoki nodded in agreement, Akihiro felt warmed by their interaction, even if it almost made him feel left out considering how he was the newest member of the quartet. Daisuke, however, seemed to have sensed what he was thinking, for he added, "Same goes for you, Akihiro. It doesn't matter if you're the new man on the team. Whatever you need help with, you can come to me, Kenta or Naoki. We've got your back."

"Definitely," Naoki added. "With that said, though, I'm really sorry if we weren't able to help you that much for the past few days with what Kenta said regarding you and Sayori."

"Ah, that's okay, you guys," said Akihiro, smiling. "And thanks. I really appreciate that."

After some murmurs of cordiality, Daisuke clapped his hands together. "Anyway, since our fearless leader was brave enough to share something, I'm starting to feel a bit more willing to come clean about what has been happening to me recently."

He cast his gaze down for a moment; Akihiro glimpsed a bit of sadness beneath his laid-back persona. "My dad came by to visit us recently," Daisuke began. "Kenta, Naoki, you guys know the story behind my dad, right? For Akihiro, I'll just give a quick summary about that. You see, my mom and dad have been divorced since I was still in middle school. Been living without him for a few years now, but in spite of that, we're doing pretty well. When he stopped by our place, though, things changed for a while. My sister's really angry that he would even dare to drop by after what he did, while Mom was pretty formal about it all. As for me, well . . . I didn't know what to feel. I mean, I was really frustrated when he left us, but right now, it's not the same. It was weird, you know? I had every right to feel angry again at Dad for showing his face again after what he did to Mom and for breaking up our family, but I didn't react like that when he visited. I'm not gonna lie, the conversation was pretty awkward, but at the end of it, I couldn't help but feel a bit sad. Dad told us that he'd be moving out shortly with his new wife—the same woman he was seeing when he cheated on Mom—and that he wanted to somehow spend a bit more time with us before he left.

"I've been thinking about it for the past few days. I didn't wanna share it with Natsuki at first, but I told her in the end about it. She asked me all sorts of questions, about whether I might be just repressing now how I really felt about what my dad did. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was actually the coping mechanism that my brain went with in the same way that my sister Hiroko keeps using her hate juice to deal with what Dad did. Ah, I dunno. I'm no expert on how the mind works, so I'm just finding it odd that I'm feeling like this. Maybe it's because Mom never really showed me how sad she was about what happened. Maybe Hiroko saw Mom during those sad moments while I didn't, and that's the reason why she's still so pissed off at Dad. Anyway, he's gonna be coming back for a last visit before he leaves. I don't know what's gonna happen, so I'll just have to wait and see, I guess. Besides, that's not the only thing I've been thinking about.

"You see, Natsuki's going through a lot of crap, too. That's why I've been real serious on keeping her company most of the time. I . . . I don't know if I can share the details with you guys, though. I know it might seem a bit unfair to her because it's her personal life that we'll be talking about, but it's just . . . j-just too hard to deal with it all alone."

With a sigh, Daisuke began wringing his hands together, looking overwhelmed. During the silence, Kenta spoke up. "Dude, I know I'm in no position to snoop around, but if it's as serious as your face is showing, maybe it'd be better if you tell us. I can tell that this ain't just a quarrel between you guys or something like that."

"You got that right," Daisuke muttered somberly. He looked up and observed his friends' faces one by one, as if he was measuring them in a new light. This time, Akihiro could feel a certain kind of trepidation well up in him as they waited for Daisuke to decide.

"Alright, screw it. I wanna help her, and to do that, I'll need all the help I can get," Daisuke said resignedly. "The thing is . . . Natsuki's life at her home isn't a good one. I'm not just talking about simple stuff that teenagers go through, no. This is really serious. Her dad . . . he's a major douchebag who hurts her."

Akihiro felt his heart drop into his stomach at the statement. Kenta turned a bit pale, and Naoki didn't move a muscle. Meanwhile, Daisuke balled his hands into fists and continued speaking. "Yeah. Natsuki was wearing this face mask when you guys met her for the first time, right? Well, she wore that to hide bruises on her face. And all those times that I was absent from our table at lunchtime? I was keeping her company by giving her food that Mom cooks for us because she isn't able to eat properly at home. She almost passed out on me a few times from being so hungry. Now, if you guys wanna ask where her mom is, she died some years back in a car accident. Natsuki told me about it."

The noise in the diner remained unchanged, but Akihiro imagined that he could hear a pin drop following Daisuke's words. It was all staggering to take in, and immediately Daisuke's absences were placed into a whole new perspective for everyone involved. Naoki leaned back against his seat, looking utterly speechless, while Kenta was looking around the diner as if he was searching for answers and respite. Akihiro, meanwhile, imagined Natsuki in his mind's eye, wondering if there were any signs that should have alerted everyone else to her plight. With an onset of panic, he imagined if the same case was true with Sayori.

"There has to be something she can do, right?" he asked after a while. "I mean, she can report that kind of abuse to the authorities, or at least tell her relatives."

Daisuke sighed. "Yeah, but she's . . . well, scared. Scared of how her dad will react, and scared of losing him too."

"Well, who the heck cares about how her dad will react? She needs help!" Kenta hissed vehemently. "Can't she, like, move out on her own or something? There has to be something like that which she can do, right?"

"There is, but there are a few legal restrictions," said Naoki gravely. "I read before that teenagers can rent their own places, but they're only free to do so if they're twenty and above, and if they can pay for their own rent. Those below twenty and/or those who can't pay rent can still be allowed, but only with parental consent and if someone can pay the rent for them. In most cases, the payment's taken care of by either the parents, legal guardians, or another party that can act as a guarantor, like an employer."

Akihiro nodded along, recognizing the procedure that his parents and Sayori's had taken so that the two of them could live alone in rented property. Kenta let out a sigh of frustration. "If consent's a requirement, then there's no way Natsuki's dad will let her leave."

"I know. I hope I can convince Natsuki to tell her relatives about what's really happening with her," Daisuke mused worriedly. "Her dad hasn't had an episode in a while, though there were a couple of days where she wasn't able to eat properly again. I've been doing my best to make sure she does."

"Just keep talking to her, man," said Kenta. "You're doing the right thing by keeping her company and helping her like this. Maybe with a bit of time, you can start convincing her to speak out about what she's dealing with. If things get rough, just tell us, alright?"

"Yeah, thanks," said Daisuke gratefully. "If anything ever happens to Natsuki again, I'll put my foot down, I swear."

Their discussion was temporarily interrupted by the arrival of their orders. The four of them started eating their cheeseburgers in silence, a far cry from the eating contest that Kenta had joked about earlier. As he ate alongside his buddies, Akihiro's mind was processing everything he had just heard—Monika's departure, Kenta's worry, and now Daisuke's fears regarding Natsuki's situation. He had no doubt that if Sayori was to hear about them, she would feel really dejected, considering how close she was with Monika and how happy she was about establishing new friendships with old schoolmates like Natsuki.

When they had finished eating, the four of them left the diner quietly. All thoughts of going to the arcade or the mall had left their heads. Akihiro knew that Kenta wanted the quartet to bond and enjoy each other's company after going for a few days with some being absent and everyone having problems to deal with, but he sensed that no one among them had expected the day to turn out like this. Still, it felt like the beginning of a trial by fire, an ordeal that brought the quartet closer together with reinforced bonds of brotherhood.

As the four of them left _Big Tom's_, the sun was already starting to set on the city. Naoki checked his cellphone. "My mom just sent me a text. She wants me to run an errand. Is it okay with you guys if I go now?" he asked them.

"Yeah, sure," replied Kenta. "Where are you headed?"

"At the apartment where our family friend lives," said Naoki. "She bought a fruit basket for our friend's sister to bring to the hospital, but she's waiting on someone else at the moment so she can't go there just yet. She told me she's close to the park, so I'm just gonna go and meet her there to get the basket."

"Oh, hey, the park's just a few blocks away from my place," said Akihiro. "I can accompany you if you want."

"Oh, sure thing! I could use some company for a little while longer," said Naoki, smiling cordially. "Thanks."

"Looks like Akihiro's got you, then," said Kenta. "If so, I'm just gonna go on home. Don't have much to do at this hour just yet, but Mom might be happy if she sees that I'm home early. How about you, Daisuke?"

"Same," replied Daisuke.

"Alright. Anyway, I'm glad that you and Naoki here managed to come along," said Kenta, clapping his strong hand on Daisuke's shoulder. "Same goes for you, Akihiro."

"Ah, that was nothing, big guy," said Daisuke, clapping back Kenta's shoulder. "I'm glad you asked us to come, and I'm really grateful that you all took the time to listen to me earlier."

"What are friends for, eh?" said Akihiro with a grin. "We've all got each other's backs, like a well-oiled RPG team."

Kenta laughed. "My mind just keeps thinking about rocket launchers when I hear that. But yes, you got that right."

After a chorus of fist bumps, parting words and questions about when the next junket would be, everyone went on their separate ways; Kenta and Daisuke both headed to the direction of their respective homes while Naoki and Akihiro made their way towards the park. The people walking along the sidewalks began to increase in number as evening approached, with the setting sun painting in orange and gold the buildings and trees around downtown. At a few places, Akihiro saw some of their schoolmates out and about in eateries and stores, with some buying some things for school and others simply eating and having fun.

"What a day, huh?" said Naoki after a while.

"Exactly," said Akihiro. "It wasn't how I was expecting our little jaunt to turn out, but it was nice nonetheless. Sayori would be proud of me if she saw me spending time with some new friends instead of going home early just to continue playing video games."

Naoki laughed. "Looks like I'm not the only one who's being asked to spend more time outside. Sometimes, my parents are worried that I might be focusing too much on reading and studying instead of having fun."

"Well, it's not like we're bored to death when we're just inside our homes doing what we love," said Akihiro, chuckling along with him, "but I guess it is rather nice to go out with friends sometimes. I was thinking of inviting you guys over at one of the internet cafés in town one time for a gaming session."

"That does sound nice! I am a bit afraid that I might be lagging behind you and Kenta and Daisuke, though. I haven't played a proper video game since I was in middle school."

"Don't worry, we can fix that! It's just for fun, after all. It'll mostly be matches against AI players in RPGs, FPS, RTS, stuff like that."

"I'm kind of ashamed to admit that I'm not that well-versed in video game genres, so I'm not familiar with most of those abbreviations," said Naoki with an amused tone. "The only one that I'm familiar with among those is the RPG genre."

"Ah, don't worry. That's how every gamer's life starts," said Akihiro. "Been there myself."

Naoki's mother was waiting outside a posh café near the park when they arrived. As Naoki introduced him as a schoolmate and a friend, Akihiro gave her a polite greeting and stood by as Naoki received the fruit basket and some final instructions. In no time at all, the two of them set off again, this time towards the apartment where they would be delivering the basket. Along the way, Naoki explained that their family friend's relatives had arrived at the hospital to watch over her, allowing her sister to go home and get some rest; Naoki's mother had wanted to deliver the fruit basket herself at the hospital, but was unable to as she was waiting for another friend. Like what Naoki had said earlier, the task of delivering the basket fell to him.

"The apartment should be about two or three blocks away from here," Naoki said as they exited downtown and entered the beginning of one of the city's many neighborhoods.

"Okay," said Akihiro. Sure enough, he recognized the area, which was close to where his own apartment was. He had walked with Sayori around here in the past during one of their many previous trips downtown. He smiled sadly to himself as the thought made him miss her even more, though even this small expression waned when he imagined Daisuke's fear for Natsuki's wellbeing, and Kenta's sadness at Monika's possible departure from the city.

"I really hope things start looking up for everyone," said Naoki quietly as they walked. "Something's been going on with Yuri lately as well, and it's been keeping me occupied."

"Oh, is she okay?" asked Akihiro.

"Mostly. There's just something that I've been thinking about regarding her," replied Naoki. "I know it might seem unfair of me to hide it from you guys and not share it earlier like what Kenta and Daisuke did, but I didn't want to say it out loud just yet because it's still just a hunch on my part. It might be unfair for Yuri if I tell others and it turns out I was just overthinking. For the most part, though, I do hope I'm wrong."

"I see. Don't worry, I understand," said Akihiro.

As the two of them continued walking, more residential buildings began to pop up. Akihiro did not pay much heed to his surroundings and merely followed Naoki as the latter looked at his cellphone to check the address that they were looking for. When they suddenly rounded a familiar street corner and walked down a row of different apartments sitting side by side, Akihiro perked up, though he kept his surprise in as Naoki perused the address signs that were plastered outside the walls and fences of each apartment they passed.

When Naoki finally stopped outside a familiar whitewashed concrete building with a few small trees and black iron fencing flanking a matching front gate, Akihiro asked, "Is this the place?"

"Yep," said Naoki, double-checking his cellphone for the address.

"Well, crap. That's where Sayori lives, too," said Akihiro, looking up at the building. Naoki glanced at him, surprised.

"Really? That's a remarkable coincidence," he said. "Maybe she heard of . . . of what happened to our family friend, then. It caused quite a commotion."

"I'm sure she did," Akihiro mused, "though she didn't tell me about it. . ."

The two of them went inside, spoke briefly to the caretaker about visiting a tenant, and made their way up the stairs. Naoki had mentioned that the unit he was looking for was at the second floor—again, same as where Sayori was. "Do you want to go see Sayori while I go drop off this fruit basket?" Naoki asked him.

"I kinda want to, but . . . well, she might be surprised that I dropped by so suddenly," said Akihiro as he glanced down the hallway to the direction of Sayori's door. "I didn't text her or anything beforehand. Then again, she hasn't texted me for days now. . ."

"Well, why don't you just go on ahead and pay her a short visit?" asked Naoki, smiling. "I don't know if this'll take long, but if it doesn't, I can always wait for a bit."

"Are you sure?" asked Akihiro with hesitation.

"Of course!" Naoki assured him. "You did choose to accompany me here. It's fine with me."

Akihiro sighed. "Well, if you say so. Thanks, man," he said gratefully.

With that, he made his way down the hallway to Sayori's apartment unit as Naoki went in the opposite direction. Much of Akihiro's hesitancy came from the idea that he might be catching Sayori off guard at a time where she might not be feeling too well. Of course, that went against his own worries of checking on her after she had been absent for a while now in his daily life. Not for the first time, he missed the days when he could simply be with her without any sort of hiccup, when they were only just close childhood friends. Still, there was nothing else to do but move forward, and in spite of everything that had been happening Akihiro was glad that he took the big step forward with Sayori and turned their friendship into something more.

When he reached Sayori's door, he stared for a few seconds at it, wondering what he should do or say if she chooses to answer him. Raising his hand hesitantly, he rapped against the wood three times. "Sayori?" he called out. "It's me. It's Akihiro."

No reply came from within the door. Akihiro knocked thrice and called out again. "Sayori? Are you there?"

He decided to give it another try. "Sayori? It's Akihiro. You in there?"

Silence.

Akihiro sighed, leaning forward to listen for any sound inside the unit. Apart from the ambient sounds in the street and within the apartment, he heard nothing, not even a noise that told him of Sayori's presence like last time. He knocked on the door and called out one last time, in vain once again. Knowing that any further attempts would be pointless, he decided to leave.

Naoki met him down the hallway around a minute later. "So, how was Sayori?" he asked.

"No one's home, apparently," said Akihiro, shrugging sadly as he made his way down the stairs. "I guess I should've texted her beforehand after all, but then again there's no guarantee she would have replied. . ."

"Oh, I see." Naoki glanced down the hallway before following him. "Aren't you gonna try and wait for her?"

Akihiro paused for a moment to think before replying. "No. I'm not even sure what time she'll show up. Could be five minutes from now, could be an hour. Either way, I'll just text her and tell her that I dropped by."

The chilly air outside cut through their faces as the two of them walked past the apartment's front doors. The street was starting to darken as the sun receded behind the façade of the nearby houses and buildings. Akihiro looked up and down the street, wondering if he would spot Sayori somewhere.

Naoki turned to him as he pulled the front gate shut behind them. "So, you're gonna go on home now, then?"

Akihiro nodded in reply. "How about you?"

"Same. Thanks again for accompanying me here," said Naoki gratefully.

"No problem," said Akihiro, smiling. "See you at school."

* * *

Sayori knew it was Akihiro the moment she raised her head and saw him walking a few meters away. He was heading towards the direction of his apartment, facing away from the street where she was in the process. She saw that he had just come from the direction of her own apartment, and she wondered with a bit of anxiousness for a moment if he had stopped by to pay her a visit while she was gone. She had left her apartment for a while to go and buy some food that she would be having for dinner, and obviously she wasn't expecting any visitors. Instinctively, she quickened her pace as she walked towards Akihiro and was about to raise her voice to call his name, but she stopped short of doing so.

Without looking anywhere else, Akihiro kept walking down the street and soon vanished from her sight. With a sigh, Sayori knew that had she chosen to come home around five minutes earlier, she would have run into him on the street. Whether or not she wanted that, however, she could not tell.

When she arrived back at her apartment unit, she deposited the takeout that she had bought and took a look at her cellphone on the end table next to her bed. Proving her guess right, there was a single text from Akihiro.

"_hey there Sayori. i stopped by earlier at ur place, but u weren't there. ah well, there's always a nxt time right? anyways, hope ur doing ok. take care, see u at school. i really miss u_"

Sayori looked away from her phone, unable to focus too much on Akihiro's message lest her sadness take over and leave behind a swathe of emptiness for her to wallow in. Their current situation was starting to mirror the same things that she had been reading on the internet for quite some time now; tales of depressed individuals whose plight kept them from establishing and maintaining relationships with people. Sayori had taken to reading about such topics not long after she had witnessed the aftermath of an attempted suicide in its full reality, wanting to know more about what she might possibly be suffering from and see if there was a solution for it. It wasn't easy at first; to her, it felt as if she had a terminal illness that necessitated her isolation from the rest of the world, even if that was never the case. Some of the stories had mentioned both the ups and downs of such experiences, saying that there were indeed moments when the skies darken with one's personal rain clouds to the point of cloaking everything in a dark blanket of emptiness, but the sun would always manage to rise in the end and usher in a fresh day where one can attempt to live all over again.

Keeping this in mind, Sayori did not want to give up. In spite of the fact that she was still unable to face Akihiro just yet, she wanted to start looking for ways to bounce back and cope with the horrible things that the voices in her head were feeding her. The stories that she had read thus far were giving her glimmers of hope, and she clung onto that hope steadily. Currently, the voices in her head were starting to buzz, seemingly in defiance to the thoughts of recovery and hope for a better tomorrow, but she felt that if she took the initiative, she could start figuring out a way to silence them.


	40. Chapter 40 - You Have Me

_A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters._

* * *

**CHAPTER FORTY – YOU HAVE ME (NatSuke)**

The enthusiasm among the student body regarding the approach of the school's cultural festival was temporarily stalled by the announcement that everyone's exam papers would be returned today. Adding to the tension was the fact that each class would receive its batch of returned papers at random periods throughout the day. Most students began to voice their worries about what grades they might have gotten, while some imagined with a bit more optimism that they had done relatively well.

For the most part, Daisuke did not feel too troubled by it all. After spending some time with Kenta, Naoki and Akihiro at _Big Tom's_, a hangout which Kenta had planned out of the blue, he felt substantially better. For one thing, he had done the unthinkable and shared some of his worries with his closest friends. The issue with his father's sudden visit had been rather easy to share, given that Naoki and Kenta knew about it all and Akihiro understood it easily enough, but Natsuki's troubles had been more difficult to share. In the end, however, he felt relieved that he had done so, and thus he began facing the oncoming days with less worry compared to before.

Of course, Daisuke had not yet told Natsuki that he had confided the sensitive details of her domestic issues at home with his friends. Knowing Natsuki, she would surely react with a lot of verbal vitriol reminiscent of how she had acted the first time he met her. On top of that, she would obviously be hurt, both at the thought that other people knew of her home situation now and at the idea of being helped. Daisuke knew that it could not be helped in the end; as much as he wanted to respect Natsuki's wishes, he felt that he could do a lot more to help her if his best buddies were by his side knowing what was happening, and in a scenario as serious as domestic abuse going down, he and Natsuki needed all the help they can get. Perhaps once she finds out—and Daisuke was certain that Natsuki would find out one way or another—he can get her to understand why he shared the information regarding what was happening to her at home. For now, he simply had to make sure that she was doing fine, that she was eating well and having fun with their manga-reading at lunchtime.

The moment of truth for 3-D came right after lunchtime as the class representative arrived fresh from the faculty room to inform the class that their test papers were now at hand. The volume of the tension rose considerably as the folders containing the papers were distributed to their respective owners. Daisuke and Natsuki stood up together to claim their folders, eyeing each other with a bit of apprehension, speaking no words. Once they had received their folders, they quickly made their way back to their seats and opened them, resigning themselves to whatever they would be seeing.

As he looked over his returned test papers one by one, however, Daisuke began feeling more relieved and satisfied with each paper he perused. They did not bear the best marks in the class, that much was true, but he did not expect to obtain B's for nearly every test and even score a couple of A's for History and Moral Studies. With the stress that he had been experiencing before the exams, he had expected to get by with a few C's and some D's. Everywhere else, his classmates were comparing scores on their test papers as well, with some shouting as they realized that they had won or lost the bets they had struck with their friends. Daisuke felt even better when he saw that he had come out of the exams in the best shape among his friends. It was a good way to start the morning and cap off the first batch of exams that they had for the academic year.

He turned towards Natsuki, whose reactions were hidden beneath her face mask as she looked over her own returned test papers. "How did yours go?" he asked her.

Natsuki shot him a look. "Well, they're . . . um . . ."

Daisuke leaned forward, pointedly avoiding gazing at her test papers without permission. "What is it?"

"I . . . did okay, I guess," said Natsuki, sighing. She held out the papers towards him and looked away. Daisuke received them with a bit of worry for her, wondering if she had done more poorly than she liked to admit. To his surprise, however, he flipped through the papers and saw that she had more A's than he did.

"This isn't just okay, Natsuki," he said. "You did really well!"

"I know, I know," Natsuki hissed, snatching the papers from him. "I was just bummed out a little because . . . well, I could've done better, you know? I could've gotten all A's."

"Ah, that's alright! You did real swell, okay?"

"Are you sure?" asked Natsuki, looking sulky as she glared at him.

Daisuke smiled, placing a hand on her arm. Natsuki twitched a little from the gesture, but she didn't shy away from it. "Natsuki, I know that it's totally a 'you' thing to strive for the best every single time, but don't feel too bad about what you managed to get, alright? You did more than okay—even better than some of us, that's for sure! I'm sure that you gave your best, and that's what's important."

Natsuki sighed irritably, her ears turning red. "Yeah, yeah, I got that. You don't have to say all that mushy sentimental stuff every time I act like this."

"I'm sorry for that," said Daisuke, laughing. "I just don't want you feeling too down, okay?"

"Yeah, I get it," Natsuki mumbled. "Thanks. . ."

Daisuke gave her arm a gentle squeeze before letting go. "So, now that we can stop worrying about our grades for the exam, we can all start focusing more properly on the festival!" he said with enthusiasm. "What do you have in mind?"

"I'm not going," Natsuki stated flatly.

Expecting such an answer from her beforehand, Daisuke took it in stride. "Why not?"

"I don't have a lot to do during festivals," replied Natsuki. "It's either I bring some of my manga to read somewhere secluded at school, or I do it at home. That's why I've been choosing to stay at home during school festivals all throughout high school."

"Wait, really? But there are always a lot of things to be had and done at the cultural festival! I mean, a lot of our classmates are gonna be putting a lot of effort into this, like they always do. It's always a sight to see what they manage to come up with, right?"

"I know, but since I won't be doing that much, I don't see any point in me dropping by. Besides, it's not like I can enjoy the festival by freeloading off of everyone's efforts."

"Hey, that's alright! I mean, a few of our schoolmates can't contribute much, but that doesn't mean they're banned from joining and enjoying."

Natsuki glared at him. "Why are you suddenly so insistent on making me come along?"

"Well, as soon as you said that you've never gone to any of the previous school festivals before, I made up my mind to try and convince you to come to this one," said Daisuke. "Come on, Natsuki. I just want you to have some fun and enjoy yourself. I know we could always just find a way to go out and have some fun in another way, but the festival's a different experience."

"But what exactly am I going to do?" Natsuki hissed. "It's not like I'm participating in the events or managing any booths. At least you have something to do, drawing banners for the booths."

"Wait, you knew about that?"

"I overheard a few of our classmates talking about it. Anyway, you have more reason to be at the festival than me."

"Hmm . . . what if we found something for you to do for the festival?"

Natsuki raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"Well, don't you want to help plan one of the events?" asked Daisuke. "Or maybe you can open a booth with a few of our friends."

At that moment, an idea popped up in his head. "Wait, I know! What if you baked some cup—?"

Before he could finish his words, however, pain shot up his arm as Natsuki punched him.

"Ow! What was that for?" he cried out, trying not to raise his voice and draw their classmates' attention towards them. Luckily, everyone else was still busy comparing grades around them.

"You mention 'baking' and 'cupcakes' again with other people around and I'll knock your block off," Natsuki muttered in a vehement whisper.

"Oh, right. Sorry about that," said Daisuke apologetically. He lowered his voice and continued, "But still, it's a good idea, right? I mean, your cupcakes are always delicious, and they'll sell good at a booth. I'm sure that everyone will love them!"

"No, I'm _not _going to bake for the festival again!" Natsuki hissed back.

Daisuke paused. "Wait, 'again?' You mean you've actually done that before?" he asked, surprised.

Natsuki's eyes widened as she realized what words she had just uttered, and her ears turned red again. "N-Never mind what I said!" she sputtered.

Not wanting to wear down Natsuki's patience any further by asking about what she said, Daisuke sighed. "Alright, let's leave it at that. I just thought that you might want to give it another shot this year. At least you'll be having fun, right? And besides, I wanna help you with this."

Natsuki looked at him sullenly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it'd be a good addition to the booths that the class will be making," replied Daisuke. "If you want, I can push for some of our other classmates to consider doing it."

"How about the ingredients, then? Baking for a whole lot of visitors won't be cheap."

"Maybe we can all chip in some money for that, like those who are gonna be buying stuff for decorations and props." Daisuke grinned. "Does this mean you're considering doing it? I mean, you're asking about it and all."

"I didn't say anything yet!" Natsuki retorted.

At that moment, the bell rang for their next class, cutting their debate short. Everyone began to settle down and wait for their next professor, the volume of their discussions gradually subsiding. Daisuke glanced at Natsuki once again as the two of them stowed away their test papers, imagining that there might be actually a chance for her to consider baking for the school festival. It wasn't arguably the best of ideas, but he had become rather invested in it to the point where he felt that he had to convince Natsuki to give it a try. After all, it seemed better than simply forcing her to come along or to let her stay at home with her terrible father around while everyone else was having fun.

When lunchtime came, Natsuki made it a point to focus more on eating and reading manga with him afterwards. Daisuke sensed that she was making a conscious effort to avoid talking about the festival and the possibility of opening a cupcake booth for the class. In secret, he had asked a few of his classmates about the idea, making it seem like he was the one who would be doing the baking so as not to put too much unwanted attention on Natsuki. So far, the ones that he had talked to all voiced some form of approval to the idea, stating that a cupcake booth would be a welcome addition since the class did not have a solid food booth idea ready just yet.

"I can't believe that you'll be capping off _Parfait Girls_ soon," said Natsuki as the two of them read one of the series' later books together in their usual spot on the open field. "You should be proud, because you've really come a long way from being a simple reader who only reads shoujo for the girls and _those_ scenes," she added flippantly.

"Hey, that's low, alright?" said Daisuke. "You keep saying that but you know that I'm learning quite a lot from what I've been reading so far!"

"Oh, really? Then give me an example of what you learned."

"Well, for one thing, I'm learning stuff about pastries, desserts and baking. Who knows? Maybe it won't take long before I try baking, and maybe in no time at all I can bake for the festival."

Natsuki shot him a look. "You're really adamant about me baking for that stupid festival, huh?"

"Of course!" said Daisuke with a laugh. "But if you don't want to, then I guess I can just research on my own and see how it's done."

Natsuki scoffed. "Now that sounds like a laugh."

Daisuke shrugged. "It's just a thought. If you don't want to bake because you don't want people knowing about your baking skills, then I'll just try doing it myself. You can just give me some advice on how to do it. And don't worry, I won't be telling anyone that you're helping me."

"Wait, seriously?" Natsuki sat up straighter. "You're gonna get on with it even if I'm not the one doing the baking?"

"Like I said, it's a thought. I may not be as good of a baker as you are, but I picked up a thing or two from Mom and _Parfait Girls_ on how to work properly in the kitchen. I'm sure that I won't be burning down any houses or poisoning any people with my handiwork," he said, laughing.

Natsuki looked at him, her pink eyes looking dead serious. "You're bluffing. You're just saying all this to convince me to bake in the end."

Daisuke paused for a moment. "I want to say 'no,' but for the sake of not getting my arm socked again for lying, I'm just gonna say 'yes.'"

"I knew it!" Natsuki screeched, snapping shut the _Parfait Girls_ book between them.

"Ah, ah, ah! No punching, please!" Daisuke said quickly, holding his hands up.

"For the last time, I don't want to open a cupcake booth, okay?!" Natsuki hissed.

"Can you at least tell me why?" asked Daisuke, his hands still acting as a temporary shield in case Natsuki let a fist fly. "I mean, do you think that you're not gonna do as well as you'd like to if you ever give it a try?"

"U-Um . . . well, y-yes. But that's not the only reason, okay?!" said Natsuki defensively. "I don't w-want anyone making fun of me and my baking. I don't want to waste a lot of time and effort and ingredients just to have someone say that my cupcakes weren't that good, or that I was too sloppy with the icing, or—"

"Is that what happened last time?" Daisuke interrupted. "You know, when you . . . baked for a previous festival and all . . ."

Natsuki fell silent for a moment. Her irritation seemed to dissipate as she pondered on the question. "W-Well, no, not really. . ." she finally muttered in reply.

"Then what did the people say when they tasted them?" he asked her as he lowered his hands.

Natsuki let out a resigned sigh. "I didn't hear them actually say it because I didn't bother hanging around for the festival then, but our class adviser at the time, she told me that . . . t-that everyone loved them."

Daisuke smiled. "See? They loved them! And I'm sure that if you did that for this year's festival, they're gonna love them all over again!"

"How can you be so sure?" asked Natsuki with a sullen tone. "What if I screw up this year, right? I don't want to mess up something like that!"

"Exactly," said Daisuke. "If I know you, Natsuki, I know that you don't like screwing up when you're doing something that you're really dedicated to, and that's why you rarely get something wrong when it comes to these kinds of things. I'm sure that if you ever consider baking for the festival, you're gonna give it your two-hundred percent in terms of commitment and effort, and if you do that, there's no way you can mess up. I know this because I've seen you work like this with school stuff, so it must be the same for your passions like baking, right?"

Natsuki said nothing for a while. She tore her gaze away from Daisuke, evidently doing some thinking as she mulled over his words. Feeling that he had said what he could to try and convince her, Daisuke waited patiently for her reply.

"I'm gonna think about it. . ." Natsuki finally replied. "Don't get your hopes up, okay? I'm still not sure."

For Daisuke, it was good enough. "That's okay. And hey, I was serious about trying to bake, alright? If you need any help, you can count on me."

Natsuki shook her head with a sigh. "We'll see about that."

* * *

Walking home later that day, Natsuki mulled over her thoughts in silence. A very small part of her was still irritated at Daisuke's efforts to help lighten her mood or find ways to do so, but she could not stay angry at him. It wasn't as if Daisuke accidentally discovered that she was capable of baking since she willingly made the choice to give him a batch of cupcakes as a gift, and obviously he always meant well when it came to dealing with her. That was one of the reasons why she couldn't bring herself to say no outright to his idea. On the other hand, she also felt as if she could actually pull off what she did before and bake for this year's festival, and that was what made her weigh the thought further. However, as she had told Daisuke earlier, nothing was final yet. Natsuki wondered how long it would take for her to reach an impartial decision. If she said yes, Daisuke would possibly go all-out to help her with the expenses and the extra manpower she would need to bake, which was a plus since she knew that she could never have that much money and time to pull this off. If she said no, then at least she would be able to carry on like nothing ever happened, albeit at the cost of letting Daisuke down. It sounded so simple in her head, but somehow Natsuki couldn't bring herself to look Daisuke in the face if she disappointed him on this.

When she reached her house, Natsuki decided to give everything more contemplation later to avoid stressing herself out. As soon as she opened the door and stepped inside, however, her pensive mood was temporarily stalled by the smell of cigarette smoke and the sound of a woman's laughter inside the house. Startled, Natsuki walked towards the living room and took a peek.

It was a usual sight for her: empty beer cans on the floor, an ashtray laden with crushed cigarette butts on the nearby coffee table, and some empty bags of chips with their erstwhile contents peppering some parts of the carpet. Her father was sitting on the couch, facing the television as he drank deeply from another can of beer. The only difference in this daily scenario was the voluptuous black-haired woman in skimpy clothing who was sitting on her father's lap, taking a long drag from a cigarette and exhaling the smoke up towards the ceiling.

Natsuki inhaled sharply. This was not the first time that she had witnessed her father bring home such women, but it was always a bad sight to see. Sometimes, he would come home with a woman in tow even while she was around, their laughter and ribald chatting ringing in Natsuki's ears long after she had gone up to the comfort of her bedroom. Natsuki knew what the women's purposes were, and the sight of them in the house brought in thoughts of her mother and how she would feel if she saw what was happening.

Lost in her own thoughts, she snapped back to attention when she heard the woman in the living room speak. "Looks like we've got a visitor."

Natsuki almost felt her legs give way as she looked up to see the woman looking directly at her and her father turning around with a grunt. "Oh, you're here. Good," he muttered; his words were already slurred from the onset of alcohol. "There's some money on the kitchen table. Go out and order us some takeout."

"You didn't tell me your kid would be home this early," the woman told him, flicking his shoulder playfully. "I told you we should've just gone to our usual place."

"Hey, I said it'll be fine, alright?" Natsuki's father said, swatting away the woman's hand. Again, he turned towards Natsuki. "You. Takeout. Now," he grunted.

Natsuki didn't move or speak. Fear welled up inside her and told her to just follow her father's orders without much fuss or trouble, but a small part of her also felt a ripple of anger at what her father was doing once again. She had no doubt that he was spending most of the money that her Aunt Shoko had just given them, money that should go into buying what they actually needed. This was always the same scenario that she had been facing for years now, and for a long time, Natsuki always felt that she could never have a say in how things went.

Until now, that is. She had seen how hard her Aunt Shoko and her Uncle Ryota worked in order to make sure that she and her father would never starve or run out of money to take care of things, and it was infuriating to see that instead of making the most out of this blessing, her father was just indulging his vices over and over.

Her hesitation earned her a shout from her father. "Hey! Are you deaf or something?! I told you to go!" he roared drunkenly. Still sitting on his lap, the woman looked at them almost lazily.

Natsuki balled her hands into fists, pushing down the fear that she was feeling. She looked up and stared forward.

"N-No."

It was one of the few bold steps that Natsuki had ever taken. For the next few moments, the only sounds that could be heard were the noises coming from the television. Meanwhile, her father stared back at her, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"What was that?" he muttered.

Natsuki wanted to shrink backwards, but to her slight amazement she found herself standing ground. She sensed what was coming, and maybe she knew that it would come regardless of what she tried to say or do now that she had just given her father a flat-out refusal.

"I said n-no, Dad," she went on quietly. For a moment, she imagined when she had stopped calling her father "Papa" like she used to do when she was younger; of course, her mother was still alive then, and the world was a happier place.

"You're gonna b-be using the money that Aunt Shoko gave us, right? That's what you always do. You s-spend it on what you want instead of buying what w-we need. And then when the money runs out, y-you start complaining."

Her father stared back at her like a bomb just waiting to go off. The woman sitting on his lap, on the other hand, did not even bat an eye; Natsuki wondered for a moment if she was used to drama unfolding before her like this. Either way, what was happening right now was obviously not her concern, and Natsuki didn't see why she should receive any help from her if things went south. She knew that she would just be a silent observer to what could happen, just like the walls of their house had been for the past few years.

"What did you just say, you little piece of shit?" her father muttered. "Did you just try to lecture me?"

Natsuki swallowed, her fear now fighting back against her determination to keep going. "You go out there and do what I'm telling you to do, alright?!" her father kept going. "If you backtalk me again, I swear I will beat your damn head off!"

"Hey, hey, there's no need for that, alright?" the woman crooned as she placed a hand on his chest. "If you want to, sweetie, I can just go out and buy our food for us, and your little girl can go on upstairs to her room without a lot of fuss, how about that?"

Natsuki felt some gratitude towards the woman for at least attempting to defuse the situation, though she also bristled when she heard the words "little girl." Not knowing what else to do or say at the moment, she merely kept standing her ground, unable to tear her gaze away from her father.

"You know what? Yeah, you go ahead and do that," her father grunted after a short instance of silence. He gave her a shove. "Go on! What're you waiting for?! Get on with it, woman!"

Seemingly eager for this excuse to step outside for a moment, the woman gave her father a quick peck on the cheek, got up from the sofa and sauntered over to the kitchen to get the money for the takeout. The silence that stretched in the meantime was so incredibly tense that Natsuki could feel it weighing down upon her almost physically. On the other hand, her father kept staring daggers into her as he waited for his female companion to leave the house. Natsuki knew that to retreat up to her room would be pointless now, since her father would just run after her.

When they heard the sound of the front door closing, the silence reached its fever pitch. With an irate grumble, her father stood up and walked over to her, his anger evidently rising with every step. Natsuki watched him move towards her, feeling almost nauseous as she anticipated what he would say the moment he reached her.

Instead of using words, however, her father replied with a powerful backhand to her face. Natsuki stumbled a little from the force of the blow. Her cheek burned, and her vision became slightly disoriented for a few seconds. She always forgot how strong her father could be.

"You don't talk to me like that, you little bitch!" he roared, forcing her to face him with an iron grip on her shoulder. With his free hand, he ripped the mask off of her face and threw it at her. "You hear me?! You don't mouth off like that about me in front of other people!"

Tears fell from Natsuki's eyes as her father shook her roughly with every sentence he was uttering. She avoided his gaze all the while, not wanting the pain on her body and heart to overwhelm her. For her conscious efforts in not looking at him directly, she got another slap and a push towards the living room's walls. This time, Natsuki could taste a bit of blood, and she knew that the slap had split her lip anew.

Meanwhile, her father was relentless. "You're talking to _me_ about spending money on crap that we don't need, and yet you're stealing some for yourself so that you can buy those trashy comic books that you like so much, right? Or how about all that shit that you buy when you bake for your sissy little friends? And you have the guts to call _me_ out for spending money on what you call useless shit?!"

"I've _never_ stolen any money from you!" Natsuki cried back, her voice breaking as she tried not to sob out loud. "I save my allowance so that—"

_Whack_. This time, the blow caught her in the back of her head. Natsuki buckled as her head whipped forward, and she could not stop herself from crying out in pain. Before she even had time to regain her bearings, she felt her father's free hand grab her neck as he forced her to look at him.

"What did I just say about backtalk, you stupid piece of shit?!" he thundered; the smell of beer and cigarette smoke in his breath and the tight grip he had on her throat almost made her gag. "You do that again and I swear I'll tear your fucking head off, you hear me?! You have no fucking right to do that to me! In fact, you should be on your damn knees thanking me for still trying to raise you after all the trouble you've caused, you ungrateful bitch!"

"D-Dad, I can't b-b-breathe . . ." Natsuki gasped.

Again, her father's hand struck, and again the world spun in her eyes from the force of the blow.

"Dad, p-p-please. . . Stop it, please. . ."

Another blow. It was as if she had uttered something so horrible that merited being slapped again.

"Dad, it h-hurts. . . P-Please, no more. . ."

One more slap followed. This time, there was no pause in between as her father's grip shifted from her neck to her face, and he squeezed her cheeks and chin painfully. "If it wasn't for you and your pathetic little wants, your mother would still be alive!" her father spat. "You hear me?! Your mother would still be fucking alive, and I won't have to deal with your bullshit all alone!"

At the mention of her mother, Natsuki gave up speaking and tried to squirm free from his grip, but another backhand stopped that easily enough. She whimpered from the pain as her father kept holding her upright by the face. She could feel her back pressed against the cold, hard wall behind her, and she wanted nothing more than to fall through it and disappear forever. Somehow, she knew that she should be regretting ever opening her mouth earlier, but such was the price that a person had to pay for standing up to someone. More curses and rants followed from her father, but she was now too lost in her own grief and pain to listen to or feel any more of them. Only the occasional blows that punctuated her father's tirades still startled her more than anything; it was hard to tell from the numbness whether each successive blow was more painful than the last. It did not matter whether it was another slap or backhand or a shove that made her hit her head at the wall she was backed against; Natsuki had no choice but to stand there and take it all as she sobbed and whimpered. She prayed for a moment that someone would hear the commotion and come to her rescue, but when have her prayers ever been answered? With each blow that struck her, the truth was slowly hammered once again into her head: that though her father did survive, both of her parents died in that car accident long ago.

When her father finally released his vise-like grip on her face and stalked back to the sofa in a huff, Natsuki did not know anymore how much time had passed, whether it had been mere minutes or an hour or an eternity. All she could feel now was the pain, the burning sensation on her face fighting the coldness of the tears on her cheeks drying in the air. Her vision swam in a haze brought about by the hurt and the disorientation she had received from the blows. As she moved her lips, she felt the coppery taste of blood on her tongue.

Vaguely, she heard her father bellow one more time for her to get up to her room. Natsuki obliged, though she no longer knew if she was doing so willfully or if it was merely her body going into survival mode and directing her as far away from danger as possible. She picked up her fallen face mask but made no move to put it back on, instead choosing to let her face stand out for now. As best as she could, she stumbled up the stairs, holding on tightly to the railing for support lest she fall. Each step made it feel like weights were strapped onto her weakened body. As the seconds passed, her face began to throb more. Natsuki sucked the pain up with a silent hiss, swallowing blood as she willed herself to make those final steps and get inside her bedroom. As soon as she got inside, she collapsed onto her mattress, grabbed the nearest pillow within reach and buried her face into it, letting the dam break as she let out her sobs without restraint.

It was her hunger that stirred her from her grief about an hour later. Her room was bathed with darkness, telling her that evening had set in for a long while now. Still wearing her school uniform, Natsuki had not bothered to get up and change, not while she was crying her heart out. The pain on her face had been reduced to a numbness that stung every time she opened her mouth or touched her cheeks. Gingerly, Natsuki stood up and turned on the lights in her room, recoiling from the brightness that pierced through her sight. She ambled towards the small mirror that hung near her desk, took a deep breath and looked into it.

Her face, after almost healing completely over the week, was now back at square one. There were reddish marks on both of her cheeks that she was certain would darken and turn into bruises within the span of a day. The cut on her lip had dried a little over the past hour, though its presence would mean that she would be unable to eat or drink for a week without the wound hurting. The worst part of it all was the makings of a bruise next to her right eye, where some of her father's blows had landed. The other injuries can be covered up easily enough with the continued use of her face mask, but this one would still be visible enough for people to notice.

A vibration in her skirt's pocket startled her momentarily. She reached in and pulled out her cellphone to see four text messages and six missed calls from Daisuke, all from different intervals over the past hour. Natsuki went over the texts one by one and saw how Daisuke had started off with a message of enthusiasm that gradually turned into concern and then worry.

"_hey, JGH from the night market, had 2 help my sis buy some stuff! anyway she asked me if i wanted anything, had her buy u some of that pocky that u rly like. i'll give it 2 u 2morow, ok?_ :)"

"_yo! i know u might be bc and all, just hit me up when ur all clear, ok? take care over there!_ :D"

"_natsuki? are u there?_"

"_natsuki, are u ok over there? pls get back to me ASAP if u can. i'm just rly worried about u rn, i hope ur ok, and i hope u've eaten dinner already_"

Going over each message, Natsuki felt tears well in her eyes once again. _Why, Daisuke Matsuda? Why are you always like this?_ Her heart both swelled with pride and broke a little from sadness as she knew that Daisuke was looking out for her like he always did. At a time like this, after what had just transpired with her father, it was what she sorely needed, even if she didn't want to admit it outright to him or anyone else.

Instead of replying with a simple text, Natsuki decided to call him back. Daisuke answered her call on the second ring; Natsuki immediately knew that he had been watching his phone and waiting for her reply. His voice sounded incredibly worried as he spoke.

"Natsuki! A-Are you okay? You weren't replying at all, and I just thought that—"

His words suddenly trailed off, and Natsuki knew that he was hearing her cry silently on her end. "Daisuke. . ." she whispered. "D-Daisuke. . ."

"Natsuki, what's wrong?" Daisuke asked silently. "What happened?"

Natsuki let out a stifled sob, not knowing how to explain what her father had done again. She did not need to; she knew that Daisuke could piece together on his own simply by listening to her.

She heard Daisuke sigh on the other end. "Natsuki . . . did he . . . h-hurt you again?"

Breathing raggedly, Natsuki composed herself just enough to reply, "Y-Yes."

Silence momentarily fell between them, during which she could only cry silently. She could vaguely hear some noises on Daisuke's end; she imagined him pacing restlessly as he dwelt on what she said and listened to her crying. When he finally spoke again, his voice sounded strained.

"That b-bastard . . . hurt you . . . again. . ."

"D-Don't worry, I'll be f-fine," Natsuki quickly added, even though her crying made the words seem ineffectual. "It was m-mostly my fault anyway, I said stuff when I should've b-been keeping my stupid mouth shut. . ."

"No, Natsuki," said Daisuke in a grim tone. "No matter what you might have said, he doesn't d-deserve to hurt you like this. In fact, that bastard's lucky that I don't know w-where you two live, because otherwise—"

"No!" Natsuki cried out, feeling the hatred in his voice and being reminded of her father. "I'll b-be fine, okay?! I don't want you to do something like t-that! Just . . . p-please, just be with me, like this. Just keep t-talking to me like this and I'll . . . I'll b-be alright. . ."

"But Natsuki—"

"No buts! I mean that, Daisuke!" Natsuki bit back another sob as she struggled to keep talking. "The things that y-you're doing, when you're keeping me company and asking me about how I'm d-doing and all, it's giving me the s-strength I need to keep going through c-crappy times like this! J-Just keep doing that for me, okay? You don't have to do anything reckless or stupid. I . . . I don't w-want you to get hurt."

At this, she sank down to her knees on the floor, her emotions getting the better of her as she kept crying. It was as if her fear and despondence from what happened earlier triggered unwanted thoughts in her head, thoughts about Daisuke abandoning her when she needed him most, thoughts about being left to struggle on her own because she drove him away or let something bad happen to him. On a normal day, she would have resented baring her fears like this, seeing it as a sign of weakness, but circumstances could not have been more different than they were today.

"Just b-be there for me, okay? D-Don't leave me, Daisuke," she sobbed on her cellphone. "Just don't leave me, please . . . I've lost my parents already. . . I don't want t-to lose anyone else, e-especially you. . ."

For a long while, Natsuki simply kept crying and mumbling these words, expecting Daisuke to just hang up and leave her to her own devices. Mercifully, he did no such thing. When he spoke again, his voice trembled as if he was crying as well, and yet the words he uttered were all that Natsuki needed right now.

"You have me, Natsuki. I'll always be right here. You're not alone. You have me."


	41. Chapter 41 - Little Steps Forward

_A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters._

* * *

**CHAPTER FORTY-ONE – LITTLE STEPS FORWARD (YuKi)**

The tension that gripped 3-C after the announcement earlier gradually dissipated, giving way to sighs of relief and cries of joy. As students looked over their returned test papers, it soon became apparent that everyone had come out of the ordeal of the exams relatively unscathed. Naoki leafed through his papers and smiled to himself, seeing that his hard work had definitely paid off with a steady line of A's and only two B's for Mathematics and Science, respectively. Chief among the other celebrators was Kenta, who was practically whooping with glee and yelling "Read 'em and weep!" to some of their other classmates as he leafed through a near-consistent line of B's that was marred by only three C's. The results definitely lightened the mood for everyone, which was a plus as the school festival drew near, and Naoki knew that it was an opportune time to celebrate the results of their reviewing and cramming with his fellow quadrumvirs and their girlfriends.

Admittedly, though, he had been rather worried that the sudden return of their exam papers would once again set off Yuri's anxiety. When the announcement earlier in the morning had been made, Yuri had practically turned pale and could not speak properly to anyone, and it reminded him of how she had reacted during their study session at her house. Not wanting to let her endure this kind of anxiety on her own, Naoki had done his best to talk to her and comfort her with the possibility that she might have done well in the exams with the level of intelligence and diligence she possessed. To his slight relief, Yuri had opted to listen to him and did her best to keep herself under control as they waited for their papers to arrive. It was reassuring for him to see that in spite of her personal problems, Yuri was not succumbing to the pressure this time around. In the end, his reassurances towards her proved true as she looked through her exams and saw that she had managed to do well in each test, only lagging behind Naoki with four B's.

"Looks like our hard work paid off, huh?" he told her, smiling.

"Yes, and y-you were right," said Yuri, giving him a timid grin. "I suppose I was getting stressed out again over nothing. . ."

"Hey, it wasn't like that, okay?" he told her reassuringly. "You were worried for legitimate reasons, just like I was. I just didn't want you to imagine that you messed everything up."

Yuri sighed. "Y-You're right. I'm sorry for that. I just want to do my best in academics, but the pressure just keeps getting the better of me. Sometimes, it becomes too much to the point where I end up distracting myself and failing the tasks at hand."

Upon hearing her words, Naoki's mind once again remembered what he had read about self-harm and anxiety disorders, and he began to wonder what Yuri might have left unsaid. "Like I said, that kind of stuff often happens. Anyway, at least we've gotten past this particular hurdle, hmm? Maybe we can all start getting back on track just in time for the festival."

"Will you be attending the festival, Naoki?" asked Yuri.

"Yep!" replied Naoki. "I'm not that involved with the events and whatnot, but I haven't missed a school festival yet with Daisuke and Kenta. A quiet day at home is always nice, but there's nothing wrong with a bit of fun at the events the student body will be holding, right?"

"I suppose you're right," Yuri stated. "Often times, though, I end up just reading in the library. It's rather easy to slip away because . . . well, I don't have a lot of friends to be around with," she added with a guilty laugh.

"Hey, it's no longer like that, okay?" said Naoki, putting his hand on her arm comfortingly. "I understand how it feels to get away from all the activity every once in a while—an introvert thing, am I right? But at least you're no longer all alone. You have new friends, including me."

Yuri blushed. "Yes, you're right. T-Thank you."

Naoki smiled as he gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "So, if we're gonna be going to the festival, do you have anything in mind? Our classmates pretty much have the planned booths covered, so I don't think we need to add anything more to that."

"Perhaps we can help them with the preparations?"

Naoki thought about the suggestion for a few moments. "You know what? That sounds like a nice idea. I know that participating isn't exactly mandatory, but the booths will undoubtedly take up a lot of work, so it'll be good to lend the class a helping hand."

"I agree," said Yuri. "It would also be nice to have other productive things to do for the next couple of weeks."

When the two of them asked around later that day, they found out that their class had officially decided on running four booths; two of which would sell decorative and functional do-it-yourself goods made from recycled materials, and two that would serve snacks and beverages, with the earnings being set aside as class funds. With Yuri's assent, the two of them decided to volunteer for the merchandise booths by helping their classmates craft some of the decorations that they would be selling.

"Mom likes making things out of the spare stuff we have around the house, so I picked up a few pointers from her about DIY stuff," Naoki explained to Yuri as they waited for their next class. "Who knows? Maybe she can even help us make some of the booth merchandise if things start getting hectic for us."

"That's nice to hear," said Yuri. "I'll ask our classmates what other materials we'll need. I think Grandmother still has some of the old decorative materials from her sewing days in the house that we can use."

"Sounds good!"

* * *

Later that afternoon, as she was making her way downtown, Yuri was deep in thought. On any other day, she would feel happy at how things were starting to look up; her exams turned up some good marks and she was slowly getting back on track with Naoki. Moreover, she felt rather excited at the prospect of working with him in helping their class's booths for the school festival, sensing that it would be an opportune time to make up for the accident that had transpired when the two of them studied together. All these thoughts did, however, make her feel very ashamed with the new scars she had given herself over the past weeks. She imagined that she could have at least done better by controlling herself and refraining from using her knives, but it was only natural for people to imagine that they could have done better once everything had settled down. It was, after all, a very different feeling when her heart threatened to burst free from her chest from all the worry that she had been enduring, and who could blame her for cutting to keep that under control? Nevertheless, the anxiety had come and gone. Yuri looked forward to recovering from the relapses she had, and she was thankful that Naoki still seemed none the wiser about the cuts on her forearm.

She stopped when she saw that she had accidentally walked past the grocery store she was aiming for. She had gone here to buy some food at her grandmother's behest, along with some extra oolong tea to replenish her stock at home. Quietly, she went inside the store, feeling a bit relieved as the air conditioning cast a cold breeze on her face. It was relatively quiet inside the store as customers walked through the aisles and browsed wares on the shelves in silence. Not having it any other way, Yuri picked up a basket and joined them.

When she had managed to find some of the things her grandmother sought—some vegetable broth, two bottles of seasoning and a small pack of rice noodles—someone caught her eye. Yuri looked up to see, standing just a few feet away, a familiar pink-haired girl wearing a face mask and the same school uniform she had.

Sensing that it would be polite to at least give a greeting, Yuri walked up towards her. "H-Hello there," she said as she got close enough.

The girl looked around. When she laid her eyes on Yuri, a flash of recognition flitted through them. "Oh, hey," she said.

"Natsuki Nakajima, c-correct?" asked Yuri. "From 3-D?"

Natsuki nodded. "And you're that . . . Hoshino girl from the other class, right?"

"Yes," said Yuri, smiling politely. "Yuri Hoshino. Though I'm glad that you remembered my surname, at least."

"Oh, sorry about that," said Natsuki, looking away. "It's just that, well . . ."

"It's okay. We haven't really gotten to talk to each other properly since that study session we had before the exams."

"Yeah, you're right. So . . . what do you want?"

"Oh, I just wanted to say hello. Are you alone, or are you with Naoki's friend Daisuke?"

"No, I'm alone. I'm just here to buy a few things for my aunt. How about you? Are you with your friend?"

"I'm alone as well."

A short silence stretched between them. Natsuki shifted rather uncomfortably where she stood. Yuri emulated her, wondering what else she could say to at least keep this trivial conversation going and growing worried that she might have initiated verbal contact with Natsuki just to leave everything in awkward silence. It was at that moment when she noticed some slight bruising next to Natsuki's eye, just above the lining of her face mask.

"Um, I don't mean to be r-rude," she said, "but what happened to your . . . f-face?"

Natsuki's eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "Oh, you mean this bruise?" she replied. "It's nothing. Just had an accident at home."

"I see," said Yuri, glad that she had at least elicited another response. There was an air of undeniable seriousness around Natsuki that somehow made her hesitant about talking to her so casually. Then again, it was better than simply saying goodbye and leaving without another word.

"If you want, we can keep each other's company for a while," Yuri went on.

Natsuki's brow furrowed once more. "Uh, why?"

Feeling rather overwhelmed by her brusqueness, Yuri caressed her forearm. Pain crept through her veins. "W-Well, it's just a friendly invite, that's all," she replied, attempting to smile once again. "I mean, it's always nice to talk to new people, and we haven't really gotten to know each other better and all. . ."

As she finished speaking, she could not help but cringe at her own words. It sounded so damnably awkward that she found herself wishing that she could just slip away and let this conversation fade into obscurity along with her own self. With Natsuki's stare still upon her, Yuri could already imagine the words that she would be saying. _Why are you acting all weird and approaching me out of the blue like this? I don't even know you that much. I think you're just wasting my time. _Gripping her forearm tighter, Yuri surrendered to the inevitable approach of such statements, wordlessly bemoaning her introversion all the while for making it so difficult to sustain even a simple conversation.

Natsuki's actual reply, however, surprised her. "Yeah, sure, whatever. . ."

Yuri glanced at her. "A-Are you sure?"

"I said 'yes' already, didn't I?" Natsuki stated bluntly. Yuri was slightly taken aback by her sudden seriousness, though Natsuki was quick to soften up. "S-Sorry. I'm just not used to being with new people. Most of the time, it's just me and . . . and Daisuke."

"Ah, I see." Yuri let out a quiet sigh of relief. "That's understandable."

For the next few minutes, the two of them wandered around the store gathering what they needed to buy. Though she thought little of small talk, Yuri did her best to initiate more conversations with Natsuki. However, she only ended up asking about random things, and Natsuki seemed keen to talk only if she was replying to some of her questions. The same staid demeanor that she had displayed last time seemed to be magnified tenfold right now. Yuri wondered if the bruise on her face had anything to do with that.

When the two of them were close to finishing up, Yuri spoke up once again. "Are you going to go home immediately after this?"

"I don't know yet," replied Natsuki. "You?"

"Well, I don't have anywhere else to go. If you want, maybe we can go somewhere to eat after we finish buying here. D-Do you have a place in mind? A café or an eatery, perhaps?"

"Well, not really," Natsuki muttered. She looked at her shrewdly. "Are you asking me out? Is that what's happening here?"

Eyes widening, Yuri felt astounded at the abruptness of the question. "W-What? No, that's not what I m-meant!" she cried out. "I was just inviting you l-like friends would! I mean, I'm n-not—ah, what I meant t-to say is that, u-um—"

She stopped short of her stuttered reply when she heard Natsuki let out a short laugh. "Don't worry, I was just messing with you," she said, her voice momentarily taking on a lighter tone. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere after this, but my dad's not yet at home, so I guess I have some time to spare. I don't know where to go, though. Most of the time I just go to either bookstores or any place where Daisuke and I can eat."

"Oh, same here!" said Yuri, her enthusiasm rising both from her relief that Natsuki's quip was meant in jest and from the idea that she was starting to find some common ground with her. "_The Monocle_ is one of the nicer book cafés I've been to, and there are also the bookstores I tend to frequent for new novels and such."

"Well, let's just wrap things up here and see where we can go, then," said Natsuki shortly.

"Oh!" Surprised at Natsuki's sudden reply to her invitation, Yuri asked anxiously, "Will that be okay with you?"

Natsuki let out an exasperated sigh. "I already agreed to it, right?"

"Ah, y-yes, of course!" said Yuri. "I'm sorry f-for asking again."

"Nah, it's nothing," said Natsuki, waving her hand airily. "Just lead the way."

To Yuri's surprise, Natsuki went along with her choice to go to _The Monocle_ instead of another place that she might be more in line with. Their impromptu hang-out still felt a bit awkward, but Yuri felt glad that she was at least starting to make Natsuki's acquaintance outside of school and without needing to rely on having other people around for it. It felt like a major achievement for her given how severe her introversion was.

When the two of them had finished ordering at the counter, they picked out a table that sat near the café's front windows. Though she wanted to peruse some of the other books that lined the café's shelves, Yuri decided against it, not wanting to keep a guest like Natsuki waiting.

"So, do you hang out with your boyfriend here all the time?" Natsuki inquired as they sat down. "The dark-haired one with the glasses?"

Once again, Yuri was caught off guard by Natsuki's bluntness. "Ah, N-Naoki's not my boyfriend, actually. We're just really good friends."

"Uh-huh. I've heard that excuse before," said Natsuki flippantly.

"No, really, we're just good f-friends!" Yuri insisted. Still, she could not help but imagine just how much she liked Naoki, and the words sounded raw in her throat as she blushed.

"Your face is red right now, so I rest my case," Natsuki stated, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Well, how about you and Daisuke Matsuda?" Yuri asked. "Naoki mentioned before how you two are really close. I take it h-he's your boyfriend?"

Now it was Natsuki's turn to redden. "Alright, is that how we're doing this right now? Did you ask me to come with you so you can put me in the hot seat?"

"Ah, I'm sorry!" Yuri cried out. "I didn't mean to say anything o-offensive!"

"No, no, it's fine. I'm just not used to being asked stuff like that," said Natsuki dismissively. "Jeez, you like apologizing a lot, don't you?"

Yuri gave her a nervous smile. "Y-Yes. Naoki has told me that before, to be honest."

"I see." Not knowing what else to say, Natsuki glanced around the café's interior. "This seems like a nice place to unwind after school. Should've brought along some reading material—I left mine at my locker."

"Oh, I didn't know y-you were also interested in reading!" said Yuri.

"Yeah, but I don't read a lot of novels and stuff like that," said Natsuki. "It's mostly . . ."

Instead of finishing her sentence, however, she scoffed. "You know what? Never mind."

"What is it?" asked Yuri, confused.

"I said n-never mind!" Natsuki hissed, looking away. "You'll only laugh at me!"

Yuri was taken aback at her sudden crabbiness. Somehow, it amazed her that Natsuki could fluctuate from being serious to being rather flippant to being so defensive in mere moments. "Um, o-okay, if you say so," she relented. "But just to be clear, no matter what you wanted to say, I don't think I would laugh at you for it."

"Really?" said Natsuki with a hint of skepticism.

"Yes," said Yuri earnestly. "I think I'm more used to b-being laughed at, if you ask me."

Natsuki raised her eyebrows. Yuri imagined that she was not expecting such a reply. Glancing at her, she imagined glimpsing a bit of pity mingling with the surprise behind Natsuki's vivid pink eyes.

"Why the heck would anyone laugh at you?" asked Natsuki in a curious tone.

Yuri cast her gaze down. "They find me weird," she replied simply. "I've been told b-before that I'm a know-it-all and a recluse, and I have my introversion to thank f-for that. There are times when I don't even know how to talk to people properly, and my interest in horror novels is often something that not many people can keep up with. There are very few people who have been genuinely nice to me in spite of all this, and Naoki is one of them. As for the rest, it's either they don't care at all or they care enough just to m-make fun of me."

Natsuki stared at her long and seriously for a while. Yuri felt as if she was shrinking beneath her gaze, imagining what could be running through her mind following her somber words. It did not help as well that she had rambled on once again, like she always does when talking to someone who was willing to listen.

"You too, huh?" said Natsuki suddenly.

Her words made Yuri look back at her. "What was that?" she asked, doing a double-take.

Natsuki sighed. "I know how you feel . . . kinda. I know what it's like to be laughed at when people find out what your interests are. Sometimes, they only listen because they feel sorry for me or something. Daisuke might be the only one who didn't do that."

"Natsuki. . ." Yuri muttered, clearly at a loss for words. She had started getting a feel of how unpredictable the pink-haired girl who sat across her from the table was, but she did not expect to find more common ground with her.

"So you like horror books?" Natsuki went on. "I can see why some people would think that's pretty weird. I don't, though. I mean, who the heck has the right to call anyone weird just because they like something like that, right?"

"Yes, Naoki said as much," Yuri mused. "So what is it that _you _read, Natsuki?"

Natsuki shot her a look. "Alright, I'm gonna tell you, but only if you promise that you're not gonna make fun of me, got it?"

"I won't make fun of you. I promise."

"Okay." Natsuki let out a sigh, as if she was about to divulge a big secret about herself to the entire world. "I read only manga. Shoujo manga, to be exact. I dunno if you're familiar with the genre, but . . . there you go."

Yuri dwelt on her words for a while. Like anime, manga was popular throughout Japan, with entire bookstores sometimes dedicated to selling only them. People of all ages tend to have an interest in manga one way or another, which often started at a young age, and creating manga was often a career path that many skilled illustrators take. Sometimes, however, Yuri found that manga tended to be superficial in terms of plot as most of the comics she had seen in the past had shown; slice of life genres and romantic comedies often follow a similar, stereotypical plotline to the point where only the characters seemed different. The illustrations and characterizations made up for the lack of plot in some cases, but Yuri felt that was often the only selling point that manga had most of the time. Perhaps that was why most people grew out of it.

When their cappuccinos and cookies arrived, the two of them settled down and prepared to drink. Naturally, Yuri would have preferred oolong tea over a caffeine beverage, but she had to make do. "So you don't read novels or short stories?" she asked Natsuki.

"I've read a few, but I find manga more immersing," said Natsuki, who was bracing her cup of cappuccino with her small hands. "Each series possesses a different art style, and it's always nice to observe how some of them are drawn and written. It's just like watching cartoons, only that everything's not animated. It's a far cry from novels that only have words."

"Ah, but sometimes words can be more engaging than images, right?" said Yuri earnestly. "It's nice to leave a few things to the imagination—it engages the reader on a whole new level, and sometimes even a simple paragraph can possess a lot more depth than a picture does."

"Hey, that doesn't mean manga doesn't have any depth!" Natsuki stated defensively. "It takes a whole lot of skill to draw what you see in them, and even if you see the imagery immediately instead of thinking it out in your mind, it still leaves a lot to the imagination!"

"O-Oh, of course!" said Yuri, bowled over by Natsuki's fierce opinion. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to say that manga is weaker compared to most forms of literature."

"Good, because manga _is_ literature in its own way," Natsuki stated, "and don't you or anyone else forget that!"

"Don't worry, I won't," said Yuri sincerely. "So, what was that genre that you mentioned? Shoujo, was it?"

"Y-Yeah, shoujo," Natsuki muttered. "It has a bit of slice-of-life and comedy themes, but it's mostly about personal experiences and . . . and r-romance."

"Oh, so that's what shoujo is," Yuri mused. "Is that what you and Daisuke read?"

"Yeah. Wait, how did you know?"

"Naoki told me about how Daisuke often skips lunch with him and their other friend Kenta to be with you. He says that you two eat and read manga together most of the time."

Natsuki's ears turned red. "Oh. Y-Yeah, we read manga during lunchtime. . ."

Yuri smiled. "It's not that far off from what Naoki and I do, then. He eats with Kenta, but afterwards the two of us get together and discuss the horror novels that we've read side by side."

"'Side by side,' huh?" mused Natsuki in a joking tone. Yuri giggled nervously as she turned away, her cheeks turning red again.

As late afternoon transitioned into early evening, the two of them drank their cappuccinos and ate cookies in relative silence. Natsuki would only drink from her cup and nibble on a sugar cookie while facing away from Yuri. Though she found this to be completely odd, Yuri refrained from asking Natsuki about it, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable, and so she ate and drank while looking away as well. At the very least, she was glad that she had managed to form a bond with Natsuki today even if it started out on an awkward and rocky note.

Inspired by her enthusiasm at what had taken place today, Yuri reached into her school bag and took out the notebook where she often wrote her poems. So far, she managed to consistently write random words that she used as writing prompts, and there were even a few lines that she had completed at home, ready to be turned into full-fledged poems. This time, she added some new lines to what she had written thus far:

_"To form connections,_

_To trek down a beaten path with a familiar stranger,_

_'Tis another chance oft unexpected,_

_And one of life's innumerable truths."_

"What're you writing?"

Startled, Yuri glanced up to see Natsuki gazing curiously at her notebook. For a moment, she fumbled with the idea of whether she should hide what she was writing, but such a prospect seemed to be outright rude. Instead, she decided to simply put down her pen and leave her notebook open.

"Ah, it's j-just . . . just a few lines, that's all," she replied, embarrassed.

"Lines?" asked Natsuki. "What, for homework?"

"N-Not really," said Yuri. "It's more of creative writing. Poetry, if y-you will."

"Oh, you write poems?" said Natsuki. She paused for a moment before shrugging. "Then again, I guess I should've expected something like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're an avid reader, so it makes sense that you'd be interested in writing as well, right? It's the vibe that your boyfriend gives off, too."

Yuri decided to let the boyfriend remark slide. "I suppose that d-does make sense," she acquiesced with a grin. "How about you? Do you write in your spare time?"

"Not really," replied Natsuki. "I've never thought about writing stuff. I've only done it before for homework."

"Well, why don't you try it as a hobby? It can be rather fulfilling, and even cathartic in some cases," said Yuri. "It gives people an outlet for their thoughts and emotions, like how a diary or a journal works, but in a more artful manner."

"Huh, I've never thought of it that way. . . Reading manga is often enough for me as a hobby."

"I see. To each their own, I suppose."

The city's noise level had increased considerably by the time they left _The Monocle_. Carrying their schoolbags and their groceries, the two of them braced themselves against the autumn chill. Natsuki was hissing under her breath as she wrapped her school jacket tighter around herself. Yuri could not blame her; it wouldn't be long before the first few snowflakes would start to fall over some of Japan's prefectures, and though Kanto did not receive quite a lot of snow compared to other regions, it was still enough to give the air an icier bite as the days passed.

Yuri turned to Natsuki. "It was nice spending time with you, Natsuki," she said cordially. "T-Thank you for coming along with me."

"It's nothing," said Natsuki. After a moment, she let out a sigh. "I'm sorry if I was messing with you a couple of times earlier, and if I seemed . . . you know, pretty grouchy. I just have a lot on my mind, and I'm trying to distract myself in any way that I can. I'll admit, it was kind of weird when you asked me to go with you out of the blue, but I appreciate the invitation and your company."

Yuri grinned, inclining her head. "It's okay, I understand. I hope we get to do this again in the future."

Natsuki shrugged. "We'll see. Are you gonna be tagging along at the next get-together with Daisuke and the others?"

"Yes. Naoki told me that the others just need a bit of time to confirm when it'll be. Monika's grown busy, from what I've heard."

"Yeah, Daisuke told me that too. Alright, see you around, I guess."

"You, too."

* * *

Naoki could not stop himself from smiling as he listened to Yuri's story over the phone, of how she had coincidentally run into Natsuki at a grocery store and how the two of them spent time together at _The Monocle_ afterwards. Yuri had called her out of the blue to tell him about it all, and she sounded rather enthusiastic as she relayed her story. Naoki sensed that it was because of her own amazement at how good things had turned out; introversion was often a considerable hurdle to overcome when it came to socializing, and from what he had heard about Natsuki from Daisuke, the small pink-haired girl could be difficult to read at times.

"Did she actually say that you seemed to be hitting on her?" he asked amusedly.

"Y-Yes. It caught me off guard, to be honest," said Yuri with a nervous giggle. "I thought she was being really serious for a moment."

Naoki laughed with her. "Your little encounter sounds really nice," he said. "I'm glad that you had a good time."

"I was actually surprised that Natsuki also had a good time, too. She did admit that she found it w-weird when I asked her rather suddenly if she wanted to spend a bit of time together. I figured that it would be a nice time to actually start establishing a new friendship with her. When we were all together at Monika's house, I was afraid that we would only treat each other as casual friends, and that we'd go back to being strangers. You and the other boys don't have that kind of problem, based on w-what you've told me."

Naoki's mind wandered back to what happened earlier in the week; Kenta had asked him and Daisuke to gather for a short after-school hangout with Akihiro, being seemingly worried that something was up with the two of them due to their increasing absences at lunchtime. What happened then had stunned everyone in the triumvirate; Kenta had shared his own fears about Monika and her impending move to Osaka with her parents, while Daisuke had everyone gripped with news of his father's sudden visit and the truth behind Natsuki's home situation. Even now, the news still shook Naoki as he thought about it, and he wondered if Natsuki could be hiding something beneath her face mask in the same way that Yuri hid something beneath the sleeves of her clothes. Between this news and Tsuru Kobayashi's attempted suicide, Naoki's heart felt truly heavy. At the very least, Kenta's impromptu get-together was something that brought the quadrumvirate even closer together, even though it took a great swerve and caught everyone off guard. On the other hand, it also made Naoki conscious of the fact that he decided not to share his own worries and musings like his best friends had done. So far, he had told only Akihiro that something was also up regarding Yuri, but he had been quick to add that he didn't want to share what exactly it was until he managed to see if his hunch was either just a mistaken guess or a horrible truth.

Yuri's voice rang out after a while. "Naoki? A-Are you still there?"

Naoki snapped to attention as he realized that he had drifted off with his thoughts. "Yeah, sorry about that. I was just cleaning up something here real quick," he lied. "Anyway, it's not just us guys who can bond in and out of school. I think you can make good friends with Natsuki, Monika and Sayori, too. It just seems awkward at first because you four still don't know each other that much, but with a bit of time, you can form your own quadrumvirate like ours!"

Yuri laughed again. "We'll s-see. Monika and Kenta do seem keen on bringing us all closer together."

"They're having as much fun as the rest of us are, it seems," said Naoki, smiling to himself. "Kenta always values the importance of friendship and having fun, and Monika probably learned a thing or two from him about letting one's hair down. Then again, I'm certain that Kenta learned a lot of stuff from her as well."

"To be honest, I didn't expect the two of them to be . . . to become a couple of sorts," Yuri mused. "Ah, not that there's anything wrong w-with that, of course!" she quickly added.

"That's alright. If you ask me, Kenta probably didn't expect that, either," said Naoki, laughing. "I guess it's just the 'opposites attract' rule. Either way, I'm also happy for them." As he said those words, however, he remembered Monika possibly moving to Osaka and how Kenta would be severely affected by it. He racked his brain for something else to say, not wanting to let one sad thought lead to another.

"I'm gonna try chatting up Tomohiro later and see when we can start working on the stuff the booths will need for the festival," he said. "He's the one who'll be giving us the funds to buy what we'll need."

"Ah, sure thing," said Yuri. "Where are we going to work, by the way?"

"What do you mean?"

Yuri paused before replying, as if she was hesitating to speak her reply. "Um, w-where are we going to stay while we're working on the wares for the booths?"

"Oh. Hmm . . ." Naoki paused for a moment, thinking. "Well, we can always work in school, but I suppose we'll cover more ground if we work during our free time off of school as well. Plus, it'll give us a safe place to store everything. Um, how about your place?"

"A-Are you sure about that?" asked Yuri anxiously.

"Yes. Will that be okay with you? If not, we can always work here at my place instead."

"No, it's f-fine with me! It's just that . . ."

"What is it?"

There was silence over Naoki's cellphone for a few seconds. Even through a call, Naoki could feel Yuri's nervousness and hesitation palpably.

". . . There might be another accident again," Yuri finally replied in a small voice. "I m-might spill tea again, or w-worse. . ."

"Oh, I see." Though rather trivial in nature, Yuri's fears were justified; to mess up the wares they would be making and selling for the school festival would indeed be a catastrophe. Still, it wasn't as if she was guaranteed to screw up again like she did with his notes last time. "It's okay, Yuri. We just need to be a bit more careful this time around."

"Yes, I'll do my best to make sure that I don't mess things up," said Yuri determinedly. "I'm just scared about the p-possibility that it might happen. . ."

"It's fine. I'll be there helping you all the while, so you don't have to worry," said Naoki in a reassuring tone. "We're in this together, okay?"

Though he did not mean them to, the words brought back the memory of the discussion Naoki had with his fellow quadrumvirs at _Big Tom's_. In the face of the difficulties that they were encountering, such words rang loud and clear.

"T-Thank you, Naoki," said Yuri. "I truly appreciate that."

When the call ended, Naoki went to his laptop and booted it up. Though they had not been given any new homework earlier, he had some assignments of his own that he had been taking care of for days now. In complete silence, he opened up his internet browser and went back to some of the old links that he had been checking out for the past few days. He and Yuri often wrote down random words to use as writing prompts for new poems and such, hoping to draw inspiration from such simple terms and phrases in order to create something. What he was doing right now felt no different.

_Self-harm. Anxiety. Cutting._

"How to help people that practice self-harm." "Stories about self-harm."

Opening the links he had chosen, Naoki went down to business. _We're in this together, Yuri._


	42. Chapter 42 - Burdened

**CHAPTER FORTY-TWO – BURDENED (MoniKenta)**

The basketball hitting deftly against his fingertips, Kenta did his best to drive forward, using his athletic build to its full advantage as he had often done. Lost in the heat of the game as he moved, he had no idea who it was that was guarding him; it was often hard to stop and tell who was in front of whom whenever the game reached its fever pitch like this. Nonetheless, his goal was simple: set up for a potential game-winning shot by either powering forth to attempt a basket or by passing the ball to someone who was more open. It seemed simple enough, but the tension was getting to him, and he did not like that.

The clock was ticking down its final twenty seconds. At thirty-six points apiece, both teams felt as if they a lot riding on their shoulders even though a victory would simply mean that one team had bragging rights over another. It was no championship game, but that didn't mean Kenta should not attempt to be fiercely competitive. Reaching the three-point line on the opposing team's end, he gauged the field quickly. Most of his teammates were competing with the ones guarding them, doing their best to get into position. To his mounting nervousness, he saw that no one among them managed to do so. Not for the first time on the court, he found that the team's hopes were riding on him. At this, Kenta felt a rush of brazen determination. He would have to take the risk, no doubt.

He gritted his teeth as he powered forward and hoped for the best. His opponent, who seemed to be expecting him to stall for a little while longer, was startled as he was sidestepped in a flash. Though he made attempts to turn around and catch up, it seemed all for naught as Kenta soon found himself on a mad rush towards the basket, dribbling hard and fast, feeling almost manic with determination and glee as he went. In a few moments, the opposing team's remaining players bunched up around him in a last-ditch effort to deny him his momentum. With a shout, Kenta jumped up, holding the ball high above him and launching himself above everyone's heads. Just like that, he was flying. Some tried to jump alongside him and block the shot, making him feel anxious for a fleeting moment. Everything during those few crucial seconds seemed to happen in slow motion.

The moment he managed to dunk the ball successfully and felt the basket's rim collide almost painfully against his palm, Kenta knew he had done his part. He clung onto the rim triumphantly for a few seconds, only letting go once he had steadied himself. As his feet touched down on the hardwood floors of the court, his teammates and the rest of 3-C cheered and roared their approval. The opposing team scrambled to get the rebound and bring the ball to the other end of the court for a quick basket that could tie the game, but their haphazard throw missed entirely as the whistle blew to signal the end of the game. The cheers increased in volume. Kenta joined in on the noise, letting out a shout louder than the one he let loose before and beating his fist on his chest. Hands clapped hard on his shoulders and arms, both from his opponents and from his teammates, all congratulating him for winning the game in such a fashion. As the tension and excitement dissipated, the gymnasium seemed to return in Kenta's vision, bringing back the other sights that he had blocked out as he focused on the game—the bleachers, the lights, the blank electronic scoreboard that hung high above everything else, and the upperclassmen who were busy warming up on the other end of the gymnasium as they waited for 3-C to wrap up this P.E. session for their basketball practice. They could not help but watch given how much noise there was during the game's course.

Naoki's congratulatory remark came as Kenta walked towards the benches where the rest of the class was. "Nice one, Kenta," he told him, grinning. Next to Naoki, Yuri also smiled timidly and said, "That was a brave effort on your part. I'm g-glad it paid off, Kenta."

"Thanks," Kenta grunted, grinning back at the two of them. It was indeed refreshing to feel that, even for a short time, he could escape from the worries that had been plaguing him over the past few days. He had to put everything else in the back of his mind as he played on the court, for even a second's worth of distraction can cost a player a lot during a game. Kenta was used to putting on a strong front, both to let everyone know that he was fine and to drown out the noise that his problems were constantly making. And so, he had doubled down on being loud and proud to the point of being overwhelming at times, celebrating with excessive glee whenever he managed to accomplish something—the return of his test papers, all with good grades, had been an example of that.

However, now that the euphoria of his victory in basketball was starting to die down as everyone settled down, his worries were returning gradually as well. He found it difficult to stave off the anxiety that followed Daisuke's major bombshell earlier in the week about Natsuki's home situation. Being the leader of the group, Kenta made it a point to watch out for the friends that he considered brothers, and whenever one man was down, he would do his best to rally everyone else in the group to help him. Between that, his promises to help Akihiro about Sayori and Monika's move to Osaka, Kenta knew that he was being boxed into a corner. Still, it would not do if he showed weakness now or at any other time ever, especially when his friends would need him most.

"Alright, good game, everyone," their instructor said as he tallied down his last few notes on his clipboard. "Gouda, Hirano, help me return this equipment to the storerooms. The rest of you are free to go. I'll see you all next week."

With that, the class dispersed as everyone made their way to their respective locker rooms to clean up and change. Kenta, Naoki and the rest of the boys began walking to the other end of the gym, discussing the game all the while. Kenta was thankful of this, since it gave him some extra time to be distracted from his thoughts.

"Good game, Kenta," said one of the members of the opposing team. "We thought we had you for a moment there."

"To be honest, I thought so too," said Kenta, laughing. "But of course, you can never pin down Kenta Yamaguchi. He'll just keep on coming, and he'll go down swinging if he has to!"

"We actually thought that you were gonna pass the ball to Hisao or Kaiji at the other side. Even we never saw that dunk coming," said a teammate.

"What do you say to a rematch?" asked another. "Same teams, downtown at that place near the creek, this Friday?"

"I'll have to pass on that one," Kenta stated. Groans and joking jeers followed his reply. He added, "Ah, quit your bellyaching, ya dolts! If you all really want a rematch just so you can get destroyed all over again, there's always the next P.E. class for that!"

"Why not make it sooner and do it this Friday, then? Is it because you'll be going out with Monika again?"

Louder whoops and cheers followed, with Naoki even joining in. Kenta waved his hand dismissively. "You dolts keep saying that whenever I end up going home earlier than usual. If I'm going out with Monika, that's none of your business!"

"Jeez, Kenta, calm down! We're just playing with you," said another one of their classmates. "You've been pretty hyper all week, so we just figured that you'll want to unwind one of these days."

"There'll be plenty of hanging around and unwinding once the festival comes," said Kenta. "What you all should be focusing on is getting that band practice together. I wanna see what you guys can do at that little concert you'll be doing! Of course, I'd join you and all, but music ain't one of my strengths."

"Yeah, showing off is more your speed. Right, Yamaguchi?" came a jeering voice.

The remark came not from one of 3-C's boys, but from the court. Everyone stopped for a moment to see who had interrupted the group's conversation. Kenta, who felt rather struck by the comment and at the mention of his surname, frowned as he glanced around.

The upperclassmen that were warming up at the other end of the gymnasium were looking directly at their group and at him. Given how the remark sounded like a challenge of sorts, Kenta half-expected to see Takeo Kimura standing among the other group as the one who had called out to him, but the stuck-up debate club vice president was not there. Instead, a tall black-haired senior student strode forward and presented himself as the caller, folding his toned arms across his chest.

"You guys want something?" Kenta asked, walking forward as well.

"Nah, we were just talking about you earlier while you were playing on the court. It's not every day we see someone like you in his natural habitat," said the senior, prompting his buddies to laugh a little.

"Is that right?" asked Kenta, laughing sardonically along with them. "I'm glad that you guys were tuned in on our little P.E. game, then. Picked up a few pointers, maybe?"

"Not really. We just wanted a good show—see how the little guys play ball, y'know? Anyway, you'd make a good player if you didn't yell like a madman every single time you make a basket," said the senior. "Then again, don't you always do that around here no matter what you're up to?"

"Why? You got a problem with that?" asked Kenta in a mockingly casual tone, striding closer. The context of the challenge was becoming clear now; here was another student who did not take too kindly to his loudness and his brash demeanor. He had heard some of them talking behind his back and laughing, but no one among them had challenged him this directly before. With him having enough problems to think about, this encounter annoyed him greatly.

The senior walked out to meet him, a cocky smile on his face. He was slightly taller than he was, though that did not bother Kenta in the slightest; he had fried bigger fish before.

"Do you?" asked the senior in a double-edged tone.

Behind him, one of his classmates called out, seemingly sensing what could go down. "Come on, Kenta. Let's just go."

"You hear that?" said the senior. "Your buddies are calling to you. Run along now."

Kenta guffawed, deliberately making his laughter sound as grating as possible to irritate as many of the upperclassmen as he could. "I don't take orders from dolts like you."

"Is that so? That's funny, because we always took you for the obedient sort. After all, you're just Monika's boy toy, right? Running after her, yip-yapping about her, all that jazz."

At the mention of Monika's name, Kenta's mood darkened further. "If there's anyone yip-yapping around here right now, it's you, ya dolt. And I might just do something about that if you mouth off about Monika again."

"Kenta, come on," came Naoki's voice behind him. Kenta could feel the anxiousness in his tone as the standoff continued. "There's no point in all this."

Kenta didn't budge, not when his stare was starting to take its effect; he could see the upperclassman before him starting to lose his cool the longer he stood his ground. Perhaps he had not expected him to keep fighting verbally even while outnumbered and potentially outgunned. Even the other seniors were starting to lose their patience with him as they flanked closer to their leader. Kenta knew that he was starting to bite off more than he can chew, but he did not want to care in the slightest.

"Come on, Kenta," Naoki repeated. "We could get into trouble if we keep this up."

As much as he wanted to let things escalate just so he could take out his frustration on the braggarts before him with a few swings, Kenta remembered Monika and imagined how she would feel if she saw him in such a scenario. Sighing gruffly, he shook his head. "Alright, alright, I'm coming."

As he turned to walk away, though, the senior had one last quip. "What did I say, boys? Real obedient. No wonder Monika keeps you around, Yamaguchi. She might have poor taste, but at least she taught you a thing or two about shutting up and walking away."

Kenta stopped in his tracks, his anger boiling over. Without warning, he spun around and lunged for the senior, losing himself completely in a fury. The senior, who was clearly not expecting him to retaliate physically, was caught off guard with a right hook that grazed his arm. Just like that, pandemonium ensued.

The seniors' female classmates, who had been standing nearby, screamed and quickly ran clear of the bedlam before they could get caught up in it. The boys, on the other hand, rushed to their leader's aid, pushing Kenta away and trying to get in a few shots of their own. The 3-C boys would have none of it, though, as they pushed back to protect him. Some of them grabbed him and steered him away from the fracas in an attempt to calm the situation, but Kenta was too angry to stop. Flailing his strong arms free of his classmates' grip, he made a beeline for his opponent and managed this time to land a left hook square on his cheek, dropping him to the ground. In the few seconds that followed, however, pain struck Kenta on his left jaw and behind his right ear as a couple of other fists grazed his head. The blows stung and rattled his vision a little, but he managed to keep his footing thanks to the press of bodies around him. He began looking around to see who his other attackers were, but a pair of hands grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and spun him around before he could get a good look. Forced to turn and face his new assailant, Kenta saw an upperclassman rearing his fist back to strike him, but he managed to stop that with a two-handed shove that sent the other fighter stumbling backward into his comrades.

Again, Kenta's classmates rallied and pried him away. This time, the senior staggered back up and rushed towards him, landing a jab that was fortunately blocked by the mass of arms that were pulling Kenta away. Kenta guffawed, yelling "_Come on!_" as he attempted to break free from his friends once again, his body fired up by adrenaline and forcing him to keep fighting. The pain on his hand from the punch he had let loose no longer mattered. How long had it been since he was involved in a scrap like this?

Loud whistles began ringing above the cries and shouts; instructors were rushing towards them from one side of the gymnasium, causing some students from both sides to retreat. Still lost in a rage, however, Kenta kept trying to charge forward and get in a few more shots before the fight was broken up for good. The arms that were restraining him doubled down on their efforts in response, managing this time to completely drag him away from the seniors. Meanwhile, the instructors had now reached both parties and were barking orders for everyone to stand down. With the presence of authoritative figures now coming into play, the fight was quickly broken up, and fingers started pointing the moment the dust settled.

Kenta felt grim as most of the blame was shoved his way by the upperclassmen. He would have contested the accusations fiercely had he not been the first to let a punch fly; after all, in scenarios like this, he knew that the one who lights the powder keg and creates the explosion is often the one to blame. Still, he felt rather vindicated as he and the senior that he had been brawling with were set aside and told off loudly by the instructors for their actions in full view of their classmates; at least, Kenta mused, he did not shoulder the blame all alone, and such an experience seemed better than being left alone with his opponent in the disciplinarian's office to wait for a sermon there.

After they had finished giving their ten-minute castigations, the instructors ordered the two of them to go their separate ways, stating that their actions would be reported to their respective class advisers and that appropriate disciplinary actions would be meted out by them. Without another glance at him, the upperclassman retreated in a huff, being the one who was worse for wear in both pride and body after being decked earlier. Kenta stalked off as well, marching both triumphantly and hesitantly back to his classmates. They were quick to ask if he was hurt, though he assured them that apart from the strain of the two successful blows that had landed earlier on him, he was entirely okay. He knew, however, that he had just added one more problem to worry about amidst everything else that he was dealing with.

* * *

Monika walked quietly but hastily down the stairs, intent on getting to the ground floor and outside the school entrance as soon as she could. When one of her acquaintances informed her earlier through a text message that Kenta had reportedly instigated a fight in the gymnasium, she felt compelled to talk to him straight away. She had texted him beforehand, asking him where he was and if he had gone on home already. Kenta admitted that he was still sticking around alone at the school entrance, and Monika told him to stay put as she wrapped up the debate club's practice for the nationals.

Kenta was sitting quietly on a stone bench near the gates, looking grim as he stared ahead. Monika wanted to call out to him, but she had no greetings that she could say at the moment; apart from feeling the stress of leading the debate club's practice, she was incredulous at the thought of Kenta brawling with upperclassmen so suddenly.

Kenta looked up at the sound of her footsteps. His opal eyes were tinged with a resigned sadness. "Hey," he muttered.

"What happened?" she asked him seriously.

With a sigh, Kenta looked away. "Are you sure you wanna know?"

Not satisfied with his dejected answers, Monika moved closer to him. "I already know," she said, hoping to draw out more than just a few words from him, "but I want _you_ to tell me everything."

"Monika—" Kenta began quietly, but she cut across him.

"Kenta, please."

Another sigh hissed through Kenta's nostrils. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, as if he could not bear to look at her directly out of shame. Monika waited patiently for his reply. In spite of how upset she felt, she wanted to hear him out.

"This senior was talking trash to me," Kenta replied at last, "right after our P.E. game. I wanted to let it slide, but the dolt kept getting in my face. He said . . ."

Instead of going on, Kenta began breathing heavily, as if speaking was taking its toll on him. Monika stared at him for a few seconds. When he still didn't continue, she asked, "What exactly did he say?"

Kenta balled his hands into fists. "You really sure you wanna hear it all?"

"Yes."

Kenta looked away once again, evidently unable to bear looking at her face as he said, "He said all sorts of things. About me, and about you too. He said you had poor taste, that I'm just some sort of pet to you, that I'm too noisy and annoying for my own good, that kind of stuff. It's nothing I haven't heard before."

Monika mulled over the words for a second. "Did you hit him first?"

". . . Yeah."

At that, Monika let out a disappointed sigh. "Kenta, you didn't have to do that. I understand that you were annoyed, but you could've just walked away and let him talk, you know?"

"I know, I know," said Kenta.

"And it was wrong for you to actually start the fight yourself," said Monika, cutting across him. "What if things escalated? What if someone got hurt bad? Not to mention, you're surely going to get into trouble with the teachers for this. It could affect your standing in the school in the long run. You've told me about the fights you got into back in middle school and how much trouble they brought, right? High school is more difficult to circumvent because rules are stricter. What if you got suspended for what happened?"

"Yeah, I know that. It's alright, though. I mean, I'd deserve it, right?" said Kenta.

"No, it's still not alright if you get suspended, Kenta." Monika shook her head. "You do understand why I'm telling you all this, right? You've told me before that you were growing past these kinds of things."

"Don't worry, you're not the only one who's disappointed in me," Kenta muttered grimly. "I hate myself so much."

"Kenta . . ."

"I'm just done with everything about myself right now. You're right. The fight earlier seems really lame now that I've calmed down and thought about it. I could've avoided what happened, but I didn't. Really smart move by Kenta Yamaguchi, right? Kenta Yamaguchi, too hotheaded for his own good. Kenta frigging Yamaguchi, resident troublemaker. I should just go jump in the creek and drown myself before I go on another rampage."

"Don't say that," said Monika. As much as she wanted to keep being stern, watching Kenta speak in such a defeated manner and with so much loathing for himself was making her feel bad for him. Sensing that her firmness was causing him to feel worse than he already needed, she decided to soften her approach. She sat down next to him and held his hand.

"I'm disappointed about what happened, that much is certain," she told him. "But I'm not telling you all this to make you feel down, okay? I just don't want you to get into trouble over things like this."

Kenta did not say a word. The two of them sat together in silence, with Monika's hand still entwined with his. Monika looked at him, her initial disappointment ebbing away as she observed how wretched and defeated he looked. It was a far cry from the Kenta she had grown used to.

Kenta bowed his head. "I'm sorry," he said silently. "I've been going through quite a lot lately, and I just let it get to me. It's a really lame excuse, I know. I shouldn't have let it get on my nerves in the first place and all. . ."

Monika squeezed his hand. "It's Osaka, isn't it?"

Kenta grunted. "That, and other stuff too."

"Other stuff?"

"Yeah. I haven't told you about it yet because I didn't wanna disturb you while you were busy preparing for the nationals, like you told me earlier in the week."

"Well, you can tell me now if you want."

"You sure about that?"

When Monika nodded in reply, Kenta exhaled resignedly. "Alright. The thing is—"

"Oy! Yamaguchi!"

The angry cry that interrupted Kenta's reply came from the school entrance. The two of them looked around to see a group of five upperclassmen walking towards them, looking grim. Monika had no idea who they exactly were, though she had a hunch as to why they were approaching them. She stood up and went between them.

"What's going on here?" she asked.

"Your little boyfriend over there got me in trouble, that's what!" said the caller, a tall and athletic-looking fellow with short black hair and a mean glare in his eyes. He looked familiar in the way that she recognized him as one of the students that she saw around the campus. Confirming her hunch, Monika knew that this was the senior student that Kenta had fought with earlier.

"I heard about what happened, but let's not let this escalate any further, okay?" she told them firmly.

The senior paid her no heed. "If I get suspended 'cuz of you, Yamaguchi, you're dead! You hear me?" he barked, jabbing a finger at Kenta. "You're so dead!"

Kenta did not move or say anything. Monika glared at the senior. "Are you seriously coming over to us to start that trouble all over again? Kenta might've thrown the first punch, but from what I've heard, you were the one who started it all."

"Oh, yeah? Did he come crying to you to tell you that?" the senior sneered.

"No, but my friends at the gymnasium told me about it," Monika said. That was a bit of a lie on her part, since her acquaintances did not tell her in detail how the fight began, only how it went. Nevertheless, she knew that Kenta did not make up the part about him attacking only after the taunts got the better of him. "People saw what happened, and I'm sure you know that."

The seniors looked at each other, looking hesitant now. It was a testament to Monika's status as a model student and a popular figure that she was managing to talk them down. Privately, she did feel nervous that Kenta or his current rival would ignore her words and begin brawling all over again, but if she had to take on a harsher tone with either of them, she would. Monika knew, however, that she would not always be around to defuse a situation like this, and that the seniors could always strike again when she was absent. She decided to double down.

"If something happens to Kenta tomorrow or any day after that, I'll be suspicious of you guys," she continued, "and so will the teachers. If you're planning something, it'll only get you into more trouble. If I were you, I would let all this go."

"I don't think it's that simple," the senior grumbled.

"Why? Because your egos got hurt?" Monika snapped, causing the boys to wince at her tone. Heads turned towards their direction as some students heard their argument running its course. It felt weird to contend with strangers, but she had no other choice.

"I've been talking to Kenta, and as angry as he was, he doesn't want any more trouble. I'm sure you guys don't want that, too. You're seniors. In just a few months, you'll be graduating. Are you seriously going to risk throwing all that away just because of a stupid fight?"

Shifting on their feet at her words, the upperclassmen looked at one another once again. Monika stood by, ready to keep arguing if she had to. It was, after all, one of the many things she had learned in the debate club.

At last, Kenta's one-time rival grumbled under his breath for a moment before stating roughly, "Alright, alright. C'mon, guys. Let's just go."

Monika watched as the seniors stalked off in a huff, leaving the two of them alone once again. Once they were out of earshot, she heaved a sigh of relief. She hoped that her words would indeed help in putting this ridiculous incident to rest, for the good of everyone involved.

When she looked back at Kenta, she saw that he had his face buried in his hands again. She retook her place at his side and put a comforting arm on his shoulder. "Kenta?" she asked.

"You didn't have to do that," he muttered, his voice muffled slightly.

"What do you mean?"

Kenta looked up, looking dead serious. "I didn't want you putting yourself through any more trouble from the crap I started. I mean, it's not like I was gonna pick another fight with them, but . . . you didn't have to defend me like that."

Monika sighed. "Did you expect me to just stand by and let them pick on you again? Of course I would defend you."

"They won't stop," said Kenta. "Not just those dolts, but the other ones as well, the people who talk about me behind my back. I've told you before, right? Ever since we got together, people have been talking, saying all sorts of stuff. I know what they're saying. I'm just used to ignoring it all, even if it stings most of the time."

"Kenta, just let them talk," said Monika. "I've encountered my fair share of people who do that, and it's better to just shut them out or cut them off entirely. People who do that are just insecure or jealous, and there's nothing good about what they're doing. If they want to bring down other people with their negativity, then that's their problem. We, on the other hand, should just carry on with what's important, because at least we're not wasting our time and effort with that kind of petty-mindedness."

Kenta was still silent. His eyes were fixed dead ahead, looking as if they bore the weight of the world behind them. Observing him in equal silence, Monika knew that there was a lot more behind his problems than just the gossip and backtalk that he had been dealing with. "Now, what were you about to tell me earlier before we were interrupted?" she inquired.

Bowing his head in evident shame, Kenta murmured, "I dunno if I can tell you. It's not that I don't want to tell you. It's just that . . . you have so much to deal with right now, with the national competition for your club and all. The fight I picked earlier caused enough trouble already, and I don't wanna add any more to that."

Monika smiled. "Kenta, I'm used to getting stressed even before we met. I've been besieged by deadlines and tough decisions for the most part of my school life. Whatever it is that you'll be telling me about, I assure you that it won't be too much for me to handle. It's not a matter of boasting, but rather a matter of making time for the people who need my help. I'll always do my best to make sure that I can help you and anyone else."

"A leader all the way, huh? I wish I had that kind of drive all the time," Kenta grunted.

"You have that, Kenta," said Monika in a gentle tone. "You've always had it."

Kenta looked up, locking eyes with her. Her smile never fading, she let go of his shoulder and once again intertwined her hand with his own. Her frustration at his actions earlier had begun to fade; just like everyone else, Kenta simply made a mistake, egged on by stress and insecurity and a general sadness about what he was going through. But even so, he learned from his mistakes and acknowledged them. Had Kenta been feeding his old ways, he would shrug off the criticism she had given him and carried on like nothing happened, but Monika knew that he was no longer that kind of person.

Convinced by her softened tone, Kenta began explaining what he had tried to say earlier. Monika listened as he spoke of an impromptu hangout that he had called a few days ago with Naoki, Akihiro and Daisuke, explaining how he had invited his friends because he felt that there was something up with them that they were not sharing with everyone else. Monika felt warmed at the thought that Kenta would be so determined to help his friends and watch out for them; this kind of attitude had endeared him to her as much as his fun-loving side and sincerity did.

The atmosphere soon changed, however, when Kenta began explaining what it was that he and his friends had discussed that day. Firstly, Kenta admitted with guilt that he had confided with them his thoughts about her move to Osaka; not expecting him to keep such thoughts to himself in the first place, Monika could not blame him for talking to his best friends about it, seeing the effect that her impending transfer had on him ever since she broke the news to him. Whenever he spoke about Osaka, Kenta always had an air of despondence lying beneath his rowdy exterior, and it stood out even more now that he was feeling down.

"After I told them about you moving to Osaka and all, Daisuke became a bit braver about coming clean with some stuff that he was dealing with," Kenta continued. "It's really serious stuff, lemme tell you, and it's been on my mind for a long while now. You might think I'm just worrying about stuff that I shouldn't exactly be worrying about, but it ain't as simple as that. Daisuke's my best buddy, just like Naoki is, and just like Akihiro is starting to be. I treat them like brothers, and not just when it comes to having fun and horsing around. If they need my help, I'll be there to do just that. I ain't the smartest guy around, but I don't wanna let that stop me when my best friends need help."

"What did he tell you guys?" asked Monika, feeling a bit of apprehension well up inside her; Kenta was speaking with even more seriousness now, and it gave her an idea of how grave this problem could be.

Kenta kept quiet for a few seconds. "I dunno if I can say it straight," he mumbled. "I kinda see where Daisuke was coming from when he said that he didn't know how to tell us about it at first. I-It's not that I don't trust you enough to tell you, of course!" he added hastily.

"Don't worry, I understand," said Monika in a comforting tone. "If you can't tell me right now, it's up to you. I won't force you."

Kenta sighed. "Now I feel bad."

"Don't." Again, Monika clutched his hand consolingly. "I understand, okay? You've been through quite a lot for the past few days, and then there was the fight earlier. . ."

"Yeah, especially that." Kenta shook his head disappointedly. "I wonder how many days I'll be beating myself up for that fight. I'll bet you my allowance next week that I'll be suspended for starting it."

"We don't know that," said Monika in an attempt to encourage him to change his thoughts. "No one got hurt badly, and you were provoked into fighting. I know you could've reacted better, but I understood why you ended up hitting that guy in the first place. Besides, this is your first incident in a long time. I'm sure your class adviser won't hold your past incidents against you."

"You really think so?" asked Kenta.

"Well, I won't deny that I'm worried, and I don't know for sure," Monika admitted. "But still, you didn't come picking a fight on your own, and you're not a repeat offender."

"Doesn't mean I'm not loud and bad-tempered like they're saying, right?" said Kenta, laughing at his self-criticism. "Anyway, about what Daisuke told us . . . just promise that you won't tell anyone about it. Is that okay with you?"

"Only if it's okay for you to tell me about it," said Monika.

Kenta sighed. "Alright," he said, though it took him a few more moments before he could compose himself to start divulging. "It's about Natsuki. Daisuke found out that . . . that her home situation's not exactly a good one. He said that her dad h-hurts her."

Monika was completely taken aback. She admittedly did not know much about Natsuki Fujisawa, other than her being Daisuke's close friend and an old classmate of Sayori's. Still, it did not stop her from counting her as a friend; Natsuki gave off an aura of silent seriousness that had been evident when she came along at the get-together at Monika's house weeks ago, but her sassy remarks towards Daisuke's jokes and her attempts at being friendly with the rest of them had made Monika appreciate her company.

Kenta echoed her sentiments as he continued. "Any friend of Daisuke's is a friend of mine, and I know how close he is with Natsuki. He ain't gonna lie about a thing like this. Natsuki's a nice girl, and she damn well sure doesn't deserve the kind of crap she's going through at her home. I can tell that Daisuke's really shaken up by it all, and he's having a lot of problems figuring out how to help her. That's why I've been worrying all week—I wanna help both of them, and I'm sure that Akihiro and Naoki want the same, but we still need to figure out how. Don't get me wrong, it's not like we're gonna just rush over to Natsuki's place and bail her out of there. It's more of how . . . how we can help Daisuke feel that he's not alone in this, and how we can find a proper way to help Natsuki without getting anyone into any big trouble."

With an effort, Monika broke out of the stunned silence she was steeped in. "Does Natsuki know that you guys are helping her and Daisuke?"

"No, and I'm sure Daisuke wants it to stay that way," said Kenta.

"Okay, good call," Monika mused. Digesting everything that Kenta had just told her, she now saw in a whole new light the lack of emotional control on his part that led to him getting into a fight; anyone would be likely to snap under duress if they had been stressing over such things for more than a few days now. Moreover, she knew what it was like to worry for the wellbeing of her friends, and for a moment, she remembered Sayori and how she still had not chosen to talk to her about what she had wanted to share.

The silence that hung between them soon became palpable. Wordlessly, Kenta stood up. Surprised by this, Monika stood up as well. "What is it?" she asked.

"I think I'm gonna go on home," Kenta replied. "I feel like I shouldn't stick around here for too long. I might get into more trouble. I mean, you know me. . ."

Monika sighed sadly. "Kenta, I'm not mad at you, okay? I was just a bit stressed from the debate practice earlier, and hearing about your fight just caught me out of the blue."

Kenta laughed unkindly; more to himself than anyone else, she knew. "Never thought I'd end up disappointing you. Just when I thought I finally managed to change."

"You did change for the better," said Monika. "And it's normal to get into lapses like that. We all make mistakes. We just have to learn from them and avoid making them again."

"Yeah, maybe. . ." Kenta grunted.

Monika patted his arm. "Please don't beat yourself up over this too much, okay?"

"I'll try," Kenta replied. His lips twisted into a sour grin. "When Mom gets wind of this, she's gonna have a fit, I'm sure. It'd be like middle school all over again."

He looked at her, his smile softening. "I'll just see you around. Take care, alright? And again, I'm sorry for . . . everything."

Monika smiled back. "You take care, too. I'll talk to you again if I'm not too busy."

As she watched Kenta walk home in a subdued silence, Monika's smile faded. She wanted nothing more than to accompany him along the way and help brighten his mood a little, but she knew that Kenta was too ashamed right now to accept that kind of comfort. She felt for him, knowing that he was going through an ordeal similar to what she had experienced—being trapped by the words and images that people choose to associate with him. It was what made her want to do all she can to help him see past all that. Still, with the approach of the nationals and her issues with her parents' move to Osaka, she had quite a lot on her plate like he did. It made her feel relatively helpless, as if she could not do anything but stand by and watch, and she knew that Kenta undoubtedly felt the same.

Monika looked up at the sky, comprehending the realness of life at the moment. She felt so small, a mere pawn in the game of life, an insignificant part of a bigger whole. She felt as if she had no real route to follow, doomed to simply watch as the world moved on with or without her. Doubtless, many people before her had experienced similar notions, that feeling of helplessness wherein one cannot even hope to fight back against it all. But she could not simply cling on to such thoughts as if they were infallible.

_No_, she thought. _We can fight back. There's always a chance for us all, just like there are always choices that we're given._

Again, she glanced at where Kenta had vanished. _Infinite choices_, she remembered, hearkening back to the poem she had been writing long ago.


	43. Chapter 43 - Reconnecting

**CHAPTER FORTY-THREE – RECONNECTING (SayoHiro)**

All across city, the weather had been overcast for the past couple of days, hinting at the approach of rain; there were cloudy skies, even colder winds and little to no sunlight. Even with the sun gone, though, the colors of the city were no less diminished. Lights remained vibrant, their radiance defying the grey hue of the cloudy weather. The remaining trees that have not yielded their leaves to autumn just yet swayed lazily in the afternoon breezes like serene dancers amidst the unmoving concrete and glass edifices of downtown. Everyone's mood was quiet but not subdued, and it made indoor jaunts even more prevalent as people flocked inside cafés, diners and even bars, looking to rid themselves of the autumn chill with a hot bowl of ramen or a few cups of rice wine. The noise of talk and laughter within these places often enticed others to seek out respite in other less cramped spaces. It was not the perfect time to be out and about exploring, especially since the chilly air was warding off would-be visitors from exploring around town in the parks and other outdoor areas, but it lent a peaceful and interactive vibe to the week nonetheless. With the preparations for the cultural festival underway, students were taking advantage of the weather to hold meetings at each other's houses or at various places across the city, with the calm atmosphere lending its benefit and getting everyone's creative juices flowing.

Akihiro glanced outside the windows, sighing as he walked along the corridor back to his classroom. As much as the weather had everyone else in a good mood, the quartet's disposition had hit another snag after Kenta had gotten into a fight a couple of days before. After hearing the details from Naoki, who had witnessed everything firsthand at the gymnasium where the fight happened, Akihiro could not blame Kenta from getting into the fight in the first place. There was an undeniable fierceness and bullheadedness beneath the fun-loving exterior Kenta had, and Akihiro was certain that he had gotten into many other fights long before he had met him. Looking back into the past, Akihiro remembered how he had gotten into trouble before back in elementary and middle school for defending Sayori from would-be bullies. He sympathized with Kenta in that regard when Naoki had narrated how Kenta's opponent had taunted him about Monika and technically provoked their fiery-headed friend into kick-starting the scuffle. However, it was evident that Kenta was anything except proud of what happened. Akihiro had tried contacting him after Naoki had told them the news, but Kenta had simply apologized and stated that he needed some time alone and that he could not bear to look anyone in the face at the moment. Akihiro could not fault him for that; news of the fight had spread quickly to everyone who knew the participants, and he was sure that Kenta was dealing with some unwanted attention from both his peers and the people who disliked him, with Monika being at the top of it all.

With him being a mood-maker, Kenta's diminished presence was felt palpably by everyone else in the quartet. He had taken to eating alone during lunchtimes, and no one in the quartet seemed to want to join him as per his wishes to isolate himself. Kenta did, however, relay some thoughts to them right before he began spending more time alone; that no matter what happens, he will find a way to bounce back and join them all once again in the highs and lows that they were going through. Akihiro felt warmed and comforted by this, and he hoped that Kenta would indeed begin getting back on his feet and put this particular episode behind him.

Back in the 3-B classroom, Akihiro idly wrote down the ideas that he would be pitching to his schoolmates about their planned scavenger hunt for the festival. Everyone had agreed that the _Dungeon Delvers_ theme would add a nice touch, and so work began on how to make it as much of an authentic RPG experience as possible. Because he played _Dungeon Delvers_ more than anyone else in their group, Akihiro had been tasked with helping his classmates write down some of the mechanics and lore that they would need for the NPC dialogue and quests. To distract his mind from his worries for a while and to get his thinking gears going, Akihiro imagined how the quartet would look as an RPG party. In his mind's eye, he saw himself wielding a sword and a shield as Naoki unleashed spells of frost and fire with a magical staff; Kenta would be swinging a battle axe while Daisuke shot down skeletons from afar with a crossbow. Though it all seemed admittedly juvenile, such imaginative thoughts helped lighten his mood gradually, but even this small comfort was stifled when he saw just how much of an RPG party the quartet actually was—a group of ragtag comrades facing the adversities that life was throwing at them as they went.

Even as he wrote in silence, though, Akihiro soon found himself thinking sorely of Sayori once again. Even the weather reminded him of their encounters in autumns past, when there were times that he would grow exasperated as the chilly weather seemed to trigger Sayori's hunger, causing her to coax him into going out to eat after school all the time. Now, he found himself willing to spend all of his weekly allowance in an instant if it meant being with her again. It still saddened him to walk to and from school without her, a fact which his other friends had begun noticing as the days passed. Akihiro wanted to believe that Sayori was doing better during her absence, and that she was simply busy with a number of things especially since the festival was approaching. This thought was smothered, however, by the idea that Sayori may possibly be feeling down again, that she was distancing herself from him because she did not want to burden him with her problems and sad thoughts. With some additional worry, Akihiro imagined that she must have even witnessed what had happened at her place regarding the attempted suicide of that close friend of Naoki's mother. Being a sweet and extremely caring girl, Sayori would have undoubtedly reacted with horror and worry, and it made him regret not being there to comfort her if that was truly the case.

By the end of the day, Akihiro decided that it wouldn't hurt to send Sayori one more text asking her how she was doing and if she was okay with him paying her a visit, no matter how short. Because Sayori replied so sparingly—if she did reply at all—he wondered if there was still any point in sending texts that would be left unanswered. Still, he decided that it would be better if he kept doing so; not sending anything at all made him feel even lonelier than he would have liked to admit.

"_hello Sayori… how are u? i hope ur doing fine. just hit me up when ur not bc, ok? take care of urself, and don't 4get 2 eat_ :)"

Looking over at the message as he pressed "Send," Akihiro knew that he could add so much more to it, wondering if such short messages would make Sayori feel that he was being too casual or even insincere. Nevertheless, it couldn't be helped, since it was always difficult to relay one's exact feelings and thoughts through the limited characters of a digital message online or through a cellphone. He had slipped in that smiley in the last part so as not to seem too forlorn, though he knew that it would do little to prove that.

Back at his apartment later that day, Akihiro rested for a long while, waiting to take a bath and wondering where he would go later for dinner when he saw, to his surprise, that Sayori had replied. All thoughts about dinner momentarily vanishing, he looked at his phone in a flash.

"_hello akihiro! i'm rly rly sorry 4 not replying all week_ :'_( i was just taking care of a few things all week and i end up 4getting 2 reply when i'm finished. rly clumsy of me, i know_ :( _i'm doing better now, i've been thinking abt wat 2 do 4 the festival with some of my classm8s. how about u? i hope ur doing ok too. how were ur exams? i did pretty well with mine, i guess, but i didn't get an A anywhere. oh well, better luck nxt time, right? haha_ :p _anyway if ur bc planning with ur friends or doing other stuff, just tell me ok? i hope i didn't disturb u or anything…_"

Within the next minute, Akihiro had managed to read the message three times, feeling relieved that Sayori was doing fine. Moreover, he was elated that she had actually replied with a rather extensive text this time. Not wanting to let this moment go to waste, he sent his reply as hastily as he could.

"_hey there! don't worry, i understand if u've been bc. i'm not busy or anything rn. i was just thinking abt where to go out 4 dinner when u txted. have u eaten already? If not, do u wanna meet up somewhere so that we can eat 2gether?_"

Admittedly, the last part was a quick addition that Akihiro snuck in before he sent his reply. Feeling emboldened by Sayori's renewed presence, he felt overcome by a strong desire to go out with her again, to eat wherever she wanted to eat and to discuss anything that they could talk about. He wanted to tell her about the ideas that he was pitching to his friends for the festival, and discuss the results of his own exam papers and how he also failed to score an A like her.

To his luck, Sayori replied, "_if u want, sure thing_ :) _but i dunno where we can go…_ :("

Akihiro smiled, even as Sayori wasn't around to see the expression. "_leave that 2 me_"

* * *

Sayori looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, as if she was checking for any signs that would tell her that she was not ready. Apart from the unkempt state of her hair and the slightly tired look of her eyes, she felt fine enough. The only kind of anxiety that she was feeling was the idea of seeing Akihiro again after another lengthy break. In spite of this, she felt that it was a good time to start bridging the gap between the two of them. She had been trying to gather up the courage and determination to answer Akihiro's texts with more than just simple messages that brooked no more subsequent replies. This time, she did not want to drive him off again. That he had replied so readily and asked her out without a second thought told her just how much he missed her. It was a given that she missed him severely as well, no matter how much the voices in her mind whispered.

At that, Sayori bristled. She had tried her best in the past days to find a way to shut those tiresome voices out by focusing on other things. When her test papers had been returned, she found a reason to celebrate and feel relieved that she had done well in spite of the incredible dejection she had felt during exam week, even if she did fail to garner an A. As much as she wanted to criticize herself for that—and the voices in her head certainly saw that chance—she decided instead to dwell on the positive side and be happy that she had managed to pass everything at least. In the end, her efforts worked a little, and she soon found herself slowly looking for other ways to become happy or at least normal again. Her classmates, who had noticed her diminished presence increasingly as time passed by, were pleasantly surprised to see her integrating herself in their group once again. Monika had also told her how happy she was that she was doing better; apart from Akihiro, only she knew about what Sayori was going through, and she made it a point to check on how she's doing in and out of class whenever she was not busy.

Musing that she had stalled long enough, Sayori turned away from the mirror and left the bathroom, intending to wait for Akihiro outside her door. Not knowing where to go, the two of them decided to meet halfway at her apartment and talk about where they can eat dinner. Sayori had not bothered to change out of her uniform, not wanting to spend more time choosing what to wear and make Akihiro wait longer than he should.

As she closed her door, Sayori eyed unit B-34 at the end of the second floor hallway, remembering with a suppressed shudder what had happened to the poor woman there. According to the other tenants, she was still in the hospital under intensive care, still not waking up from her ordeal. In the days following the event, the apartment had taken on a very somber mood, especially when some policemen arrived to investigate any signs of foul play in what had happened. Everyone else, however, unanimously knew that the incident was an attempted suicide, and nothing else. It was what drove Sayori to read about suicide and depression, driven by the inkling that what she was going through at times might be that kind of mental illness. What surprised her at first was the fact that there were many people who were going through the experiences that she was; surrounded by people who did not seem to have the same problems she did, Sayori always imagined that she was truly alone in dealing with her problems. Whether or not what she had was depression, however, was something that was rather difficult to decipher. Some people in articles noted the difference between simply feeling sad and being actually depressed; clinically depressed people were often diagnosed with the illness, the articles posited.

Her thoughts ground to a halt when Akihiro arrived around ten minutes later. Like her, he was still wearing his school uniform, telling her that he had not bothered dressing up for this date either. He smiled at her, and Sayori felt rather tearful as she beamed back.

"Hey there, S-Sayori," said Akihiro.

"H-Hello, Akihiro," Sayori greeted back. Both of them sounded nervous in her hearing, and who could blame them? Having spent more days away from each other, Sayori knew that they felt like strangers all over again.

"So, where . . . w-where do you wanna go?" asked Akihiro.

"Um, wherever you wanna go," replied Sayori. Truly, she had no idea where the two of them would eat, and anywhere was fine with her as long as she was with him.

"I see. Alright then, let's just . . . um, decide along the way, if that's okay with you."

"S-Sure thing!"

The cold evening air made Sayori wrap her uniform's blazer tighter around herself as they left the apartment and walked down the street. Akihiro did not say much along the way, though he did eye her a few times with a concerned look on his face. Sayori knew that he was still unsure on how to approach her. She blamed herself a little for that, but she chased the thought away almost immediately; it would not do if she started beating herself up over the little things right now.

A few minutes into their walk, Akihiro spoke up. "When I went over at your place, I was with Naoki. I didn't tell you why we were there, right?"

Sayori winced. "Y-You know about what happened there, right?"

"Yeah, Naoki told us, but I didn't know that it happened at your place," replied Akihiro, sighing. "I was pretty worried when I found out. You must've been pretty scared."

"You have no idea," said Sayori quietly. "It was like something f-from a movie. I think the only time I felt that scared w-was when I was having my . . . m-my nightmares."

She felt her resolve weaken a little, causing any further words she had to falter. Sensing her distress, Akihiro did not ask anything else about the matter. Sayori mused that perhaps he didn't want to sully the mood of their first date in a long time with such a grave topic right off the bat. She felt relieved at that, though she knew that the topic would certainly be discussed again in the near future.

After a while, Akihiro suddenly stopped and took off his own blazer. Sayori stood confused for a moment, watching him. To her slight shock, Akihiro wrapped the blazer around her. "For the cold," he said.

"W-Wait, what?" she stammered.

"You're shivering already, Sayori. You need the extra layer of clothing more than I do."

"But h-how about you? You'll freeze."

"It's alright. I don't want you catching a cold or anything," said Akihiro kindly. "A jacket would've been better, though. I'll just bring one next time. Besides, I'll be fine. Good thing our uniforms have long sleeves, eh?"

Sayori smiled, feeling immensely touched. Absence had done nothing to weather Akihiro's concern for her. Again, she felt ashamed for keeping her distance, and for making him sacrifice his own comfort for her.

_No, it's fine. There's nothing wrong with this._ "T-Thank you," she whispered, wrapping the blazer snugly around herself.

As they entered downtown, they were met with the noise of cars on the streets and people on the sidewalks. The nearby buildings began lighting up as the sky darkened, giving way to night life in the autumn air. To their slight misfortune, most of the eateries around were fully occupied, and the ones that weren't had higher prices than they would have liked.

"Darn, all the best places are full," Sayori muttered as they walked past the sixth diner that they had tried checking out. Some customers were actually standing outside it as they wanted for tables to be vacated.

"Yeah, it's been like this for a while now," said Akihiro. "There's still the night market, but I don't want us to eat out in the cold like this."

"That would be bad, especially since you don't have a jacket," Sayori agreed.

"Well, there's one other place that we can check out, but we'll have to walk some more," said Akihiro as they stopped walking for a moment. "Remember the diner that we ordered takeout from last time when we were at Monika's place? The one Daisuke's family runs?"

"Oh, I forgot about that!" Sayori exclaimed. She remembered how the food had tasted so good then, just like she remembered how happy that day had been. "Where was that again?"

"The opposite side of downtown, close to the neighborhoods there. I still remember the way." Akihiro took out his cellphone, adding, "Hold on, lemme just text Daisuke real quick and ask if the place is crowded. . ."

After around a minute, Akihiro spoke up again, looking at his phone. "Nice. Daisuke says the place isn't that full, and he says he can reserve a table if we want one. What do you say?"

"That's nice of him," said Sayori. "If you're okay with going there, then I'm all for it too. Besides, I don't mind walking a bit more."

"Oh, really?" Akihiro raised an eyebrow shrewdly. "Why is that?"

"I-It'll help keep our appetites up, and we'll be able to eat some more," said Sayori jokingly.

Akihiro laughed. "There's the Sayori I know."

And just like that, as if a barrier between them had been lifted, the two of them began talking more lightly as they made their way to Daisuke's family diner. Akihiro spoke at length about what he had been doing during the time that Sayori was absent; of how his own classmates had also begun noticing that he was not with her all the time anymore. Sayori echoed such sentiments and told Akihiro of how she started making efforts to bounce back from the slump that she was in. With some enthusiasm and relief, she narrated how she had been able to sleep without any more nightmares for now and how she started focusing on things that would help her rather than bring her mood down further. Secretly, she did skip out the part about what she had read online about depression so far after witnessing the aftermath of the attempted suicide at her place, not wanting to insert any topic that might change the mood of their conversations.

"There it is," said Akihiro after a while, pointing to the distance at a red two-story building with a smaller structure connected to it, bearing a sign that read_ Matsuda Eatery_. Sayori, who had never been to this part of the city that much before, saw that the place was easy to miss without its sign and Akihiro's guidance. It wasn't as colorful or prestigious-looking as other eateries downtown were, but it did have a rustic feel to it, like home.

As they drew nearer, the door of the diner opened. Daisuke came out, waving at them as he approached. "Howdy!" he called out, grinning. "I was watching out the window waiting for you guys."

"Hey there, Daisuke," said Akihiro, clapping Daisuke's shoulder when he got close enough.

"Hello," said Sayori, smiling back.

"So, out and about on a date, eh?" asked Daisuke genially. "Wasn't exactly expecting you guys to drop by. Mom was thrilled when I told her some friends of mine were coming."

"Oh, why? Aren't a lot of people stopping by to eat?" Akihiro inquired.

"Nah, we still get customers daily, but it's not the same level as the rest of downtown," replied Daisuke. "My sister's not at home yet, so I'm just helping Mom and the others run things in the meantime. Anyway, let's go inside. It's freezing out here!"

Inside the diner, Sayori felt comforted by the homeliness of the place. The simple furniture and paintings on the walls gave it the same rustic feel that it had on the outside. A good number of chairs and tables were occupied, but there were also a few that were still vacant. Daisuke guided the two of them towards the one that was farther away from the other customers, letting them settle down for a moment to keep warm before they started ordering.

"How much snow do you think is gonna fall around here this winter?" asked Akihiro, glancing outside the windows at the street.

"Mom's wagering that this year's gonna yield a bit more snow," said Daisuke, looking out as well. "My sister wouldn't like that, though. It'll be tougher for her to go to work."

"Where does she work?" asked Sayori.

"At one of the offices downtown. She's an IT professional," Daisuke replied, "though more out of need than by choice, if you ask her. Anyway, whenever you guys are ready, just go ahead and tell me what you wanna eat, alright? Let's just say that I'll be your host for tonight," he added with a laugh.

"You got it, man," said Akihiro, the two of them laughing with Daisuke as he marched off towards the kitchen. He watched him go before turning to Sayori.

"So, tell me again about your exams," he said, placing his hand atop hers.

Sayori smiled rather apologetically. "No A's, but I only got three C's. That's an improvement, right? Last time, I used to get more C's than that."

"Well, you did better than me, that's for sure," said Akihiro, laughing. "I got four C's and no A's, too. Would've won if 'get more C's than the other person' is what we're after. Still, at least I didn't slack off too much this time around."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Sayori enthusiastically.

"Thanks. You should be proud of me, since it looks like I'm really turning N-E-A-T instead of N-E-E-T," said Akihiro, laughing. "Just because you're not around often doesn't mean I'm going back to being a slacker."

Sayori laughed with him. "Really clever, Akihiro. Anyway, I am proud. And I'm really sorry for n-not being around. It's not that I'm avoiding you o-or anything, it's—"

"It's okay, Sayori, I understand," said Akihiro earnestly, curling his fingers gently around her hand. "I'm just glad that you're doing fine. And I'm really happy that we managed to go out like this again."

"Same here," Sayori whispered, blushing.

Fifteen minutes later, she felt even better as the two of them talked and ate—Akihiro had gone for his favorite katsudon, while Sayori chose some ramen to warm herself further. Daisuke came back every once in a while to check on them, cleaning up the tables left by other customers and taking orders when the worker at the counter left to help in the kitchen. Sayori felt at peace with the world. This is what she wanted—to have things feel like how they used to be, when she and Akihiro were simply enjoying life and each other's company, the time before she had given voice to her feelings for him and unwittingly unleashed the bleaker side of her emotions and thoughts. As long as she could do her part in bringing things back to the way they were, nothing could go wrong.

As the evening wore on, less people entered the diner to eat, so Daisuke finally had some time to sit down with them when they were almost done eating. "You okay, man?" Akihiro asked him as he sat down. "You've been working pretty hard."

Daisuke laughed. "It's fine. I don't mind the extra work as long as the diner gets customers. Cold seasons always help us with that. So, how's the food?"

"Delicious, as usual," said Akihiro. "If my place was close by, I wouldn't mind eating dinner every night here."

"Thanks, man," said Daisuke. "If only I can get Mom to cook for the festival, maybe the diner will get more mileage and exposure."

"You should definitely try that sometime!" said Sayori. "I'll tell my classmates about the place, too. It'll be good to have another nice venue to eat at after school."

"I'm really stoked to hear that, thanks," said Daisuke, grinning.

The three of them spent the next few minutes talking, with Sayori and Akihiro wrapping up their dinner while Daisuke kept them company. He and Akihiro got along very well, Sayori observed, judging from their banter and some of their similar interests in gaming. Nevertheless, she also got to join the dialogue as Akihiro often directed a question to her. Sayori knew that this was his way of making sure that she wasn't left out, and she appreciated it immensely.

Soon, their conversation shifted to the festival. "What are your plans?" Daisuke asked them. "I've been kept a bit busy myself. Some of my friends are asking me to draw up some designs for the booths they'll be running."

"Well, there's that scavenger hunt I've been helping put together with my classmates," said Akihiro.

"Wait, really?" said Sayori, startled. "You're actually planning a scavenger hunt?"

"Yeah, and not just watching from the back like I did in previous festivals," said Akihiro with a laugh. "I pitched the idea to my classmates about having it RPG-themed to make it a lot more immersive. _Dungeon Delvers_ was our chosen theme, and I'm actually making notes about everything for it."

"That's pretty cool," said Daisuke, nodding approvingly. "I know a few of my classmates who'd like to see that happen."

"That does sound amazing, Akihiro," said Sayori, beaming. "No one knows that dungeon game better than you do, so I know you're giving a lot of effort in making sure that it'll be the perfect theme for your scavenger hunt. I'm sure it'll be a success!"

Akihiro blushed. "Jeez, Sayori, you're making it sound like I'm on my way to discovering how to create world peace."

"I'm just proud of you for b-being more productive, okay?" Sayori shot back, pouting.

Daisuke eyed the two of them for a moment, a sad smile crossing his face. "I'm kinda jealous of you two right now, I'll admit," he said. "I wish Natsuki and I had more time to go out on dates and stuff."

"Ah, how is she, by the way?" asked Sayori.

Daisuke and Akihiro glanced at each other. The warmth from their previous conversation seemed to hit an unseen snag. For a moment, Sayori slightly glimpsed some sadness flit across Daisuke's face.

"She's . . . she's just been going through a lot," he replied. "O-Oh, don't get me wrong, we're not fighting or something like that. She just has a lot to handle right now. . ."

"Oh, I hope she's okay," said Sayori concernedly.

"Yeah, me too." Daisuke ran a hand through his wavy blonde hair. "I was thinking of helping her lighten up by having her join us all at the festival—get her to join the fun and all, anything to keep her mind off of her problems. She told me that she never attended any of the past school festivals because she was always alone, so I want her to feel happy in this one. Mom told me it's a good idea to try and convince her, but knowing Natsuki, it'll take some real convincing."

"Is she willing to listen, though?" asked Akihiro.

"Thankfully, she is." Daisuke punctuated his subdued tone with a small laugh. "She does get mad at me sometimes for bugging her about it, but she listens nonetheless."

"Natsuki does get a little too serious sometimes," said Sayori, reminiscing about her sophomore year with the stern pink-haired girl. "When I was classmates with her, I always thought she was a bit cranky at first, but she's actually pretty nice. She might get mad, but at least she knows that you care about her, right?"

"Exactly," said Daisuke, smiling. "I understand why she gets mad, but . . . I can't help it. If I know she needs someone to help her—and I'm sure she does—I wanna do everything I can to give her that. But knowing when the right time is, that's the toughest part. You wanna just do everything you can to help a person, but you don't know whether your help's coming at a good time or not. Sometimes, you just feel like . . . like you're messing even more things up, and somehow that feels even worse than just standing by and doing nothing."

From the way Daisuke was speaking, the heaviness in his voice becoming rather evident, Sayori could not help but feel that Natsuki's problems were a lot more serious than she was guessing. Even Akihiro, who was listening in silence, seemed to feel the heaviness behind Daisuke's words. Though she had no idea what exactly Natsuki was going through, however, Sayori could at least get what Daisuke was saying. To care for someone like how she cared for Akihiro, and how Daisuke seemed to care about Natsuki, it was always difficult to think of the right thing to do and how to go about it. The voices in her head echoed the futility of such sentiments at her worst moments, where Sayori felt that she was causing more harm than good in trying to make things right. Still, that wasn't to say there would only be bad days ahead; Sayori felt like she was truly getting back on track now, and she knew that it would be the same for Natsuki and Daisuke.

"Maybe it's time we all took another breather," said Akihiro. "If we can, we should all go out sometime and make that next get-together we have in the works happen. I know that the idea kinda got put on hold due to a lot of stuff, but with schoolwork being more relaxed nowadays, I think we can push through with it. We'll just need to find a good day and—"

"What about Monika, though?" asked Sayori as she tugged at Akihiro's sleeve. "She's a little busy these days with her club. She might not be able to come along."

"And Kenta, what with the recent mess that happened. . ." Daisuke added.

"Wait, Kenta?" Sayori frowned. "What happened with Kenta?"

"Oh, you haven't heard yet?" said Daisuke, looking at Akihiro.

"Kenta got into a fight a couple of days ago," said Akihiro. "Don't worry, he's alright, he just . . . he's taking some time getting back into his groove."

For a moment, Sayori wondered why Monika had not bothered to tell her about all this, but then she remembered that she was busy with the debate club's practices. She began to feel rather regretful that she was missing out on a lot of news while she was living in relative solitude.

"W-Was Kenta punished for the fight? Suspended, maybe?" she asked.

"There's no news of that yet," said Daisuke, "though I'm wagering that his academic standing will take a bit of a hit regardless. Still, he feels that the fight's his fault for hitting first. I know where he's coming from—he's turned over a new leaf compared to when he was in middle school, I'll vouch for that. Back in middle school, he used to get in fights all the time, and he even got suspended a couple of times for it. This time, he's doing better, but there are just some idiots who won't leave him alone for some reason. Anyway, after the incident, he told us to leave him be for a while." He sighed. "It isn't quite the same without him around."

"I hope Monika didn't get mad at him for what happened," Sayori muttered forlornly.

"Kenta told us that she was disappointed at first, but then she let it go," said Akihiro. "I guess that's another reason why he needed some time to reflect on things. It hurts to go through these kinds of things with people being disappointed in you."

Sayori sighed. It seemed profound that she would be able to sympathize with a person like Kenta, who was vastly different from her in terms of attitude and outlook. After all, she knew how it felt to distance oneself from others for the sake of righting a certain wrong, and how small you would feel if you disappointed your special someone. Such was one of life's many truths; that you would have more in common with a certain person than you would initially expect.

They left the diner at around seven. Daisuke saw them off with a word of thanks for their company and patronage. As Sayori watched him and Akihiro exchange some final pleasantries, she felt happy and relieved that Akihiro had managed to make some good friends in Daisuke, Kenta and Naoki, and that he had been in good hands while she wasn't by his side. It comforted her to know that, should her emotions experience another decline, Akihiro would not be lonely at least. Moreover, she knew that Akihiro's companionship and guidance would help tremendously in problems like what Daisuke and Kenta were facing.

As the two of them entered the street leading to the neighborhood where they lived, Sayori began to feel wistful as she knew that the evening was drawing to a close for them. Just like with every moment that she spent with Akihiro, she did not want this evening to end. It did not matter that there were other days for them to bond and go out; in the present, at least, she would always be happy, and the threat of another decline would just be a distant thought that can be shrugged off.

Lost in these thoughts, she drew in close to Akihiro and wrapped both of her arms around him, nuzzling her head against his side. Though he was initially surprised by this, Akihiro braced his arm around her in response, drawing her in even closer. Their pace slowed down gradually until they stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, absorbed in each other's embrace. Not many people were around at the time, leaving the two of them to bask in a silent bliss that needed no words.

When she broke away from him, she looked straight into his pale green eyes. She gave him a small smile as she held her hand up to trace her fingers across his cheek gently. Akihiro twitched a little, mumbling, "H-Hey, that tickles."

Sayori giggled softly, her fingers stopping to cup Akihiro's cheek instead. "Sorry about that," she whispered. "I just . . ."

But she found her words failing her as she stared deeper into Akihiro's eyes. Slowly, she began to realize how loud her heartbeat was against her chest. Akihiro, on the other hand, reached up to touch her hand on his face, tenderly caressing her fingers. Feeling her own face turning red, Sayori began to shrink away, but Akihiro drew her even closer to him, so much so that she could feel the warmth of his breath. Sayori swallowed nervously. They had never been this close before, not even when the two of them slept together on Akihiro's bed during that blissful, bittersweet weekend when she bared her feelings to him. Sayori drank her fill of Akihiro's image, taking in every little detail of the face that was so familiar and dear to her. Akihiro did the same, his eyes tinged with so much emotion—a hint of longing, a good measure of joy, and some determination all rolled into one.

When their faces were only mere inches apart, the two of them stopped. Sayori did not know what caused her to stop; only that she did so involuntarily. Her hesitation made her realize that she could hear whispers of doubt at the back of her mind. In a fleeting moment, she glimpsed some uncertainty in Akihiro's gaze as well, and she thought that she knew what he was thinking.

"W-We should get going," she stammered silently, completely drawing away from him. Meanwhile, as if a spell upon him had been broken, Akihiro stood up straighter.

"Yeah, we should," was all he managed to mumble.

When the two of them made it back to her place, Sayori felt her melancholy grow. She knew what would follow—Akihiro would say goodbye and go back to his apartment and his life, and she would be left to wonder when she would be able to see him again. Sayori still felt determined and optimistic enough to do what she can to always be happy, but she was also familiar with how quickly that can all change.

Opening the door to her apartment, Sayori turned back to Akihiro. She took off his blazer and returned it to him. "Thank you f-for tonight, Akihiro," she said. "It felt good to go out with you again."

"You're welcome, Sayori," replied Akihiro as he put his blazer back on. His smile seemed wistful in her eyes. "I hope we can go out again sometime."

"I hope so, too." Sayori smiled back, her own sadness coloring the expression. "I'll make sure to bring a jacket next time."

"Me, too," said Akihiro, laughing. He walked forward and embraced her so tightly that he almost picked her off the floor. Again, Sayori felt that sense of incredible longing, and as she pressed her head against Akihiro's chest, she sensed that Akihiro felt so too, just as she imagined feeling his heartbeat through him.

"I have to go," Akihiro whispered in her ear. "I'll see you around, okay?"

"Sure. T-Take care," she whispered back.

When Akihiro had left, Sayori sat down on her bed in silence, mulling over the myriad of emotions that the evening had brought. It had admittedly been a mixed experience, with some lows sobering the blissful highs that Akihiro brought, but Sayori was fine with all of it. As long as she got to be with him, it was well worth it.

She stared down at her hands, remembering the feel of Akihiro's face beneath her fingertips and how close the two of them had been. She remembered how he seemed to just close in on her, his eyes sparkling in the evening air and his breath misting in front of her. Remembering how she had hesitated, she felt rather regretful that she had unwittingly chosen not to let the moment run its course then. Still, it could not be helped. She chased away the whispers in her mind, knowing that perhaps next time she would decide differently.


	44. Chapter 44 - What The Days Bring

**CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR – WHAT THE DAYS BRING (NatSuke)**

In the days following her father's episode, Natsuki walked a precariously thin line.

Though her father made no move to hit her again, his mood had little improvement. He would bark orders to get him food from the fridge or to clean up a dirty plate that he had finished with whenever he chanced upon her passing by the living room. The number of beer cans and cigarettes around him would often signal Natsuki how much swearwords and threats would come her way whenever she approached him. In spite of her resentment, she had little choice but to oblige; at this point, even the wrong look or choice of words would warrant another beating. Even cleaning up around him when he would fall asleep from drunkenness was frightening, since every grunt and snore from him always made her fearfully anticipate something worse. It had been difficult enough to conceal the bruise near her eye, though she managed to stave off questions about it from her classmates with the excuse that she took a bad fall at home. Still, being the subject of other's scrutiny because of her exposed injury wasn't that bad compared to going home early and not knowing what to expect from her father.

Following the incident, just as she had expected, Daisuke doubled his efforts on keeping her company and cheering her up. Natsuki appreciated his company now more than ever, and it made her resent going home at the end of the day. Still, there were other things that were threatening to keep Daisuke away from her; he had told her before of the matter concerning his father's next visit and how it had caused quite a stir at the Matsuda household. As if this wasn't enough, his best friend Kenta had gotten into trouble for fighting with some senior students. Understandably, Daisuke seemed pressured by all the things that were happening right now, and Natsuki felt a small measure of guilt from contributing to his stress with her experiences at home.

On a different note, Yuri Hoshino had provided a curious little glimmer of relief that she had not expected. The two of them had run into each other at a grocery store recently, and Yuri had surprised her by keeping her company, even inviting her to spend some time with her at one of the book cafés downtown. Natsuki did not think much of Yuri when the two of them met for the first time at the get-together they had weeks ago, but her near-formal cordiality was something that she did not expect from someone as reserved and shy as her. Reflecting on their time at the book café, Natsuki found no reason for Yuri to invite her there other than out of genuine friendliness, and she was surprised to find that she had more in common with the lavender-haired maiden than she had expected when talk turned to their respective interests and likes. Daisuke was both surprised and happy that the two of them seemingly got along after Natsuki had told him about their unplanned jaunt, hoping that the two of them could meet up with Yuri and Naoki one of these days.

After their excursion downtown, though, Natsuki expected Yuri to recede into obscurity, imagining that their interaction would simply become a footnote of casual sociability between mere acquaintances. She rarely saw her at school, and Natsuki mused that apart from future get-togethers with Daisuke and Naoki and the rest, she and Yuri would not run into each other again.

Until today, that is.

After their class adviser had called for a meeting with those who had duties for the school festival, Daisuke told her to eat lunch without him, giving her the bento box that his mother had prepared for her. Taking a random copy of _Parfait Girls_ from her locker with her to read, Natsuki obliged him and went upstairs to the school's rooftop to eat and read there in relative solitude. Other students would undoubtedly be there, but Natsuki knew that it was better than occupying a bench near the field or a table in the cafeteria all alone. When she reached the rooftop, she began scouting for a good, quiet place to sit in when she heard that familiarly timid voice call out to her.

"Ah, Natsuki!"

Even as Natsuki turned around to look, she knew that it was Yuri who had called out to her. Indeed, there she was, sitting in one of the rooftop's quieter corners and away from where most of the other students were. An open book sat on her lap, its pages fluttering lightly against the noontime breeze. Knowing that it would be pointless to ignore Yuri right after she had just acknowledged her call, Natsuki walked over towards her.

"Hey," she said in a quiet tone, waving her hand once.

"H-How are you?" asked Yuri as she attempted to give her a polite smile.

"I'm alright, I guess," Natsuki said in reply. "You alone again?"

"Oh, not really," said Yuri, closing the book on her lap. "N-Naoki went back downstairs earlier to meet up with some of our classmates—something to do with the f-festival, no doubt."

"Okay, then." Natsuki cast a look upon the book on Yuri's lap. This was what she must have shared to her last time about the discussions she had with Naoki.

"How about you? Are you alone?" asked Yuri.

Natsuki glanced back at her. "Yeah, Daisuke had some stuff to take care of, too," she replied.

"Ah, I see," said Yuri. "Um, you could sit around here if you don't mind me b-being here."

Though she felt rather hesitant to do so, Natsuki looked around saw that it might be her best option, as the other parts of the rooftop were mostly occupied. Moreover, she was already familiar with who Yuri was compared to the other students around.

"Yeah, sure thing. . ." she mumbled, sitting a few feet away from where Yuri was. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," said Yuri, smiling.

As she settled down to eat, Natsuki felt awkward; once again she was eating with her back turned to Yuri and the rest of the people on the rooftop, preventing anyone from spotting the injuries on her face. Personally, she would have preferred to eat with Daisuke in one of their personal spots, since she didn't have to hide her face then, but this was a better alternative compared to skipping lunch. Luckily, Yuri left her to her own devices as she carried on reading from the book on her lap, not glancing even once at her. Natsuki imagined that she was doing so out of both habit and politeness. Still, even though she didn't feel too keen on speaking to her like she does with Daisuke, Natsuki wouldn't have minded if Yuri struck up a conversation as she ate.

When she was done eating, Natsuki set aside her bento box and opened her _Parfait Girls_ copy at a random page. Because Daisuke was not around for a discussion, she figured that a haphazard read from the manga was the next best thing to do. Ten minutes into her reading, however, Yuri suddenly spoke up.

"I didn't realize y-you were reading, too."

Natsuki looked sideways at her. Yuri had taken her eyes off her book and was gazing curiously upon her _Parfait Girls_ copy.

"Yeah," said Natsuki, sitting up straighter. "Daisuke's not around, so I figured I should just read until the bell rings."

"I see. I-Is that one of your . . . 'shoujo' manga books?" asked Yuri.

Natsuki felt rather wary now. "Y-Yeah, why?"

Yuri frowned thoughtfully. "It looks rather . . ."

Natsuki narrowed her eyes. She had heard such words before from other people, and she did not like what usually followed them. "Rather what? Childish? Stupid?" she snapped.

"Ah!" Yuri winced, evidently taken aback by her tone. "I w-wasn't thinking of it like that!"

"Then what were you thinking of?"

Yuri hesitated, as if fearing another backlash from her. Seeing her look rather fearful made Natsuki feel guilty for being too outright defensive. To soften her stance, she asked in a calmer tone, "So w-what is it?"

"Um. . ." Yuri wrung her hands together nervously. "It's just t-that . . . it looks familiar," she stammered. "I think I've seen it before in one of the bookstores I v-visited in the past. Is it from a popular series . . . ?"

"It's popular in its own way," said Natsuki brusquely. "It's not like one of those mainstream series that you always see online, but it's still got a pretty decent following."

"I see. . . Um, m-may I have a look at it?"

Natsuki stared at her, nonplussed. Knowing how formal and smart Yuri was, she found it odd for her to even take a look at something like _Parfait Girls_. "Why?" she inquired, her wariness growing.

"Well, I've n-never bothered to look at manga up close before," said Yuri as she closed her own book, "and I admit that I get curious about it at times."

_She might make fun of you._ "Uh, okay then. . ." Natsuki mumbled.

"Oh, if you want, w-we can swap books right now!" said Yuri a bit more enthusiastically. "From what I remember, you don't read any k-kind of novels, right? Perhaps this can help you decide if you w-want to try it out."

_She's definitely gonna make fun of you._ Natsuki eyed the book on Yuri's lap once again. Compared to the flashy paperback cover that her copy of _Parfait Girls_ had, with the series' characters striking cute poses in front of a pink and white backdrop, Yuri's novel looked solemn and even rather gloomy. The eerie-looking red eye symbol on the black cover seemed to leer unpleasantly at her.

Natsuki nodded towards the book. "Is that one of your favorite horror novels?"

"Yes," said Yuri, taking a look at her copy and tracing her slender fingers against the eye on the cover. "It's a novel that Naoki and I f-found when we were out looking for books together."

"Sounds like a pretty swell date," Natsuki joked bluntly.

Yuri blushed. "A-Anyway, I don't know if you're familiar with it, since it's a recent release and all," she went on. "It's called _The Portrait of Markov_."

"Never heard of it," Natsuki mumbled.

"That's okay. Um . . ." Yuri hesitated again for a moment. "S-So do you want to swap for now . . . ?"

Again, Natsuki began thinking, looking for any signal that would tell her that Yuri might make fun of her as soon as she saw how juvenile and silly _Parfait Girls_ might be compared to something as serious and sophisticated as her _Markov_ book. But looking at Yuri's mannerisms and how she spoke, Natsuki somehow sensed that she was always being sincere with her, even if it was only out of civility.

"A-Alright, here," she mumbled, holding out her _Parfait Girls_ copy to Yuri. It reminded her of her first interactions with Daisuke, when she had made the decision to share her manga with him. Since that day, a lot had changed in Natsuki's life, and she wondered if her decision to share with Yuri now would have a similar effect in the future.

Though she was understandably cautious at first, Yuri looked slightly more reassured as she took the book from Natsuki. "H-Here," she said as well, holding out _The Portrait of Markov_ to her.

"Yeah, thanks. . ." Natsuki muttered, weighing the book in her hands. With several quick flicks, she scanned through its pages and saw that—to her slight disappointment—the book had no pictures or art of any kind. _Just text—and lots of it, too_. Here and there were long sentences describing a character's train of thought, or entire sections devoted to describing what a certain place or scene looked like. Somehow, she wasn't surprised. People like Yuri and Naoki would undoubtedly find such writing engaging, writing that appealed to a person's imagination and thoughts and let the mind do the work of visualization. Natsuki had nothing against that kind of reading, since most of the stories that children grew up with were all about shaping one's imagination and whatnot, but it still felt better at times to simply see what she was supposed to see rather than rely on the workings of her mind, which could be distracting at times. The essence of Yuri's novel was in contrast to how manga worked; because there were panels already showing what places and things looked like to the reader, there was no need for lengthy paragraphs of description in manga. Only dialogues and the characters' thoughts needed narration then.

She glanced over at Yuri, who was also leafing through the pages of her _Parfait Girls_ copy with an unfathomable look on her face. Natsuki watched her closely, wondering what was going through her mind. _She must be thinking of how silly it is_. Part of the reason her former friends in middle school grew out of manga like _Parfait Girls_ had been the romantic and comedic clichés that were rife in its plot. Some would call it predictable and even pointless to read something that followed a seemingly singular pattern or introduced zany scenarios out of nowhere for the heck of it. Natsuki scoffed to herself at the thought. Those who didn't bother to understand the lessons and nuances beneath the series' wacky situations and simplistic plot were simply too closeminded to deal with. With her experiences in dealing with such people before, she wondered if Yuri was like any of them.

"S-So how is it?" she asked her.

Yuri turned her head towards her. "Hmm?" she said for a moment, distracted. "O-Oh, yes, sorry about that! Um . . . it's rather . . . unique, I s-suppose."

"Oh, come on," said Natsuki. "That's a safe answer if I've ever heard one. There's got to be more to it than that, right?"

Glancing back at the book, Yuri looked slightly anxious. Natsuki waited for her reply, trying to predict what it would be before she even spoke it. Slowly, however, she realized that going about this aggressively wasn't the right path to take. She was wary of any untoward criticism that could be directed at her favorite manga, but she also didn't want to scare Yuri away immediately by being too defensive all the time.

"Sorry about that," she said sullenly. "I'm not used to sharing manga like this with anyone e-except Daisuke. I mean, I used to do that, but . . ."

Yuri stared at her for a moment, expecting her to say something else, but when Natsuki didn't continue, she heaved a small sigh. "W-Well, I don't know much about the story's plot or the characters, so I d-don't think I can say much about them. . . The art style is d-definitely eye-catching, though."

Natsuki pondered on her words for a second. "I guess you're right. I don't think you're familiar with any kind of manga characters, so there's no reason you should know Minori or Yukari or Megumi . . ."

"I'm afraid so," Yuri admitted with an apologetic smile. "M-May I ask what the series' p-premise is?"

Natsuki shot her another look. "Why do you wanna know?"

"Just curious, that's all. . ."

Momentarily, Natsuki imagined if Yuri's curiosity was simply borne from her desire to patronize her. Still, there was no harm in a bit of explanation. "Alright, well . . . it doesn't really have a solid premise at first, okay? I know that it might be pretty weird if that's the case, but that's how some manga tend to be. Anyway, _Parfait Girls_ is basically just about a group of girls who work together in a café as waitresses and . . . b-bakers. They all flock around this good-looking guy who was taken in to work with them, and they soon start having a huge crush on him. The series' humor is all about how the girls do all kinds of silly stuff that will try to get the guy's attention, and they all just start one-upping each other from that point on."

Yuri nodded along. "I see, I see. . ."

"People think that it's really stupid at first because it's all about romance and comedies, but the later acts in the series have a bit more drama to them," Natsuki went on, eager to defend that particular aspect of _Parfait Girls_ that most critics and haters attacked. "Some of the characters are revealed to have personal issues about themselves that make them a bit insecure and even sad. It really balances out the quirky stuff, if you get my point. It even teaches readers some life lessons about loving oneself and making friends, that kind of stuff. . . And you learn all sorts of new things, too. There are some chapters there that focus a lot on baking, and I—"

Natsuki stopped right there, realizing what she had almost shared out loud in front of Yuri. "Y-You just learn some nice and serious stuff from reading it, that's all," she concluded rather awkwardly.

"I see," said Yuri again. "It does sound rather interesting, now that y-you put it that way."

"It is," said Natsuki. "If people took more time to read stuff like this, they'd appreciate it better."

Yuri nodded. "I understand. It's p-pretty much the same case with me and the horror novels I like."

"Oh yeah?" Natsuki held up _The Portrait of Markov_ and examined it again. "What's the story behind this Markov novel, anyway?"

At that, Yuri sat up straighter, looking eager to do her part now. "I'll do my b-best to explain the novel's premise without droning on or giving too much away. Anyway, it tells the story of this teenaged girl named Libitina, who escapes from a facility run by a religious cult. She reunites with her long-lost sister and some of her friends, who shelter her from the people who are chasing after her. However, it doesn't take long before Libitina starts discovering that there's some kind of dark power growing inside her, and it's affecting both her friends as well as the people who are chasing her. As the story progresses, it shows her struggle to keep this dark power contained as she tries to find answers to her true past and her ties with the cult in general."

For a moment, Natsuki had no words to say. Apart from being a little curious at the novel's premise, she was rather surprised at how Yuri's aura seemed to change as she spoke. She had seen snippets of this before when the two of them were at _The Monocle_. She sensed that this was what Yuri must actually be like when she's talking about something she likes.

"That sounds pretty dark," she finally mumbled, taking one last look at the novel before handing it back to Yuri. A timid smile flashed across her face, dispelling the refined grace she had exuded only moments ago.

"It does have a somber premise, y-yes," she said as she handed the _Parfait Girls_ copy back to Natsuki as well. "Very different from the atmosphere that your manga has."

"You've got that right. . ."

At that moment, the first post-lunchtime bell rang below them, its tone resonating across the campus. Everyone stood up and began cleaning up where they had eaten as they made ready to go back downstairs to their respective classrooms. After they had finished tidying up where they had been sitting, Natsuki and Yuri returned each other's books.

"It was nice t-talking to you again, Natsuki," said Yuri cordially. "I hope I didn't w-waste your time or anything."

"Don't worry about that, you didn't waste my time," said Natsuki. "It was nice talking to you, too."

Yuri smiled. "Perhaps we can do something like this again, a-at school or outside. We can discuss other novels if you want—a-and your other favorite manga series too, of course! Naoki would like that, I'm sure."

"Yeah, Daisuke would like that, too," Natsuki muttered. As much as she missed his presence for the day, she was secretly happy that someone like Yuri managed to make her feel less alone while he wasn't around. It lessened the pain that her father had left upon her, and it gave her something to look forward to at school and outside it.

* * *

The chill of the water flowing from the kitchen sink's tap bit into Daisuke's hands as he washed the final batch of dirty plates from the diner's last customers. One of their helpers had called in sick for the day, and it fell to Daisuke to pick up the extra work in the meantime after he had gotten home from school. Given that the festival's approach meant less schoolwork for everyone, he always had extra time to help out at the diner and at home.

Then again, even with the less hectic hours he had at school, Daisuke was far from being in a relaxed position. Very rarely did he experience the sensation of being pulled in all directions other than what he had been going through for the past week. From doing his part at the family diner after school to the banners that he was assigned to design for the festival to his father's forthcoming visit, he was starting to feel that there was no respite to be had, no solution to all the stress. Instead, there were only momentary distractions that gave him some relief that never really lasted as long as he wanted it to. To cap it all off, Natsuki's recent injuries at the hands of her deadbeat father had tested his patience to its very limit.

It made him feel even worse to think that Natsuki, the very person he wanted to protect and the one who had gone through so much hurt, had done her best to restrain him and prevent him from doing anything reckless. As much as he wanted to let his rage fly, he knew later on that it would not be the best thing to do, let alone what Natsuki would want, and Daisuke knew that she needed no more problems from anyone right now. Still, it made him wonder how long his patience can hold up. Each day that passed by made him imagine that another incident would occur, that Natsuki would get hurt again at home, and the fact that he couldn't do anything about it made him even more frustrated. He was not a hotheaded and experienced brawler like Kenta, but he knew that if he had been face to face with the poor excuse for a human being that is Natsuki's father, or at least living in the same neighborhood that he was, he would be more than willing to go out and give him a piece of his mind if he ever tried hurting Natsuki again.

Thinking about keeping his cool and not going out seeking a fight brought him to the week's second stumble: Kenta's fight in the gymnasium. When he had received word of the incident from Naoki, Daisuke felt incensed. He knew that in spite of Kenta's penchant for showing off and being loud, he would never pick a fight unless his opponent picked it for him. While Naoki was worried of the possible repercussions that Kenta's actions would bring to his once-tenuous academic standing, Daisuke sympathized with his redheaded comrade in all regards, expecting him to rise to the occasion and get revenge on his aggressors as he often did in middle school. Kenta did no such thing, however, and instead he kept his distance from the rest of the quadrumvirate as he awaited the verdict for his actions. Daisuke understood him better once he had calmed down, though Kenta's treatment and situation left a bad taste in his mouth about how unfair everything was right now.

With all this happening, it had been hard to keep calm and stay focused and happy all week. The only real respite he had was when Akihiro had come along with Sayori to eat at their diner. Their presence helped distract Daisuke even for just a little while, even as their talk that evening turned to more somber topics. Daisuke knew better than to share what had happened to Natsuki while Sayori was around—he had already taken quite a risk letting his friends in on something so private, and while he knew that more people could mean more support, it wasn't something that Natsuki would want right now. Furthermore, the happiness between Akihiro and Sayori then had made him feel rather guilty of sharing his burdens and potentially ruining their evening.

He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder gently, startling him out of his thoughts. Turning around, he saw his mother looking at him rather concernedly. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Daisuke coughed and straightened up. "Y-Yeah, I'm doing fine, why?"

"Really?" His mother nodded towards the sink. "You've been washing that plate over and over for the past minute now."

Looking down at the plate that he had been holding under the running water and the rest that were left unwashed next to the sink, Daisuke sighed. "Sorry about that, Mom," he mumbled, setting the plate aside. "I kinda spaced out there. . ."

With a smile, his mother patted his arm. "I'll take care of the dishes. You go ahead and rest."

"No, Mom, it's fine. I'll handle this," Daisuke insisted. "I just need to clear my head out a bit."

With that, he took another dirty plate and began scrubbing it clean, focusing on the running water to steady his thoughts. His mother was silent for a moment, never leaving his side. No one else was in the kitchen with them, and for that Daisuke was partly thankful; it would have been more awkward if one of their helpers was around to see his discomfiture.

Before he or his mother could say anything else, the door to the kitchen opened, and in walked Hiroko. She stretched her arms with a sigh and looked around, grinning apologetically when she saw the two of them.

"Sorry for being a bit late tonight," she said. "Makoto treated us all out to dinner after work."

"So that's why you weren't replying," said their mother. "You could've told me a bit earlier. I saved you up some dinner, too."

"I was supposed to text you guys, but my phone battery died earlier," said Hiroko. "Forgot to charge it at work."

"No wonder," their mother tutted. "I'll just store your dinner in the fridge, then. Anyway, did you ask your bosses about your leave for this Saturday?"

Hiroko sighed, rubbing her eyes wearily. Daisuke listened more intently now; Saturday was the designated day of their father's next—and possibly last—visit. He had wondered before if his sister would go someplace else instead of being with them. Not wanting to rant any further, Hiroko had taken to avoiding any talk involving their father after his visit weeks ago, but she had not been able to dodge their mother's request to have her spend the day with them this Saturday.

"They told me that it's fine, but that doesn't mean I wanna come along, Mom," said Hiroko sternly.

"I know that," said their mother. "But your father keeps asking if you and Daisuke would be there, and . . . it's likely that this will be the last time he'll see us, so I think I can understand why he wants you two to be there. . ."

"Mom, I don't care what he wants. It's bad enough that he wants to bring that . . . t-that woman along, and I'm not gonna sit in any room with the two of them around."

"But you know that I can't do this alone, Hiroko. Do you think I also want to sit there and talk to the two of them? What if . . . w-what if I ask your father not to bring Chizuko along? Would that convince you?"

"If you ask him to never show his face around here again, I might consider it."

"Alright, alright, that's enough, you guys," Daisuke cut in. He set aside the last plate he had just finished washing and dried his hands on a kitchen towel, turning to face his mother and sister. "We can't do this right now. We're all tired from doing a lot of stuff, so let's just talk about this when we've rested up a bit, okay?"

Hiroko shifted uneasily where she stood. "I'll just . . . go upstairs now," she muttered.

When she had left, Daisuke turned to his mother. She sighed. "That was my fault. I shouldn't have asked her about Saturday yet."

"It's alright, Mom," said Daisuke. "Even if you asked tomorrow or any other time, I don't think Hiroko will budge."

His mother looked at him with a sad gleam in her eyes. "I just want to give your father this last chance before he leaves. I know we don't owe him that or anything else after what happened in our family, but . . . if we're really going to get some closure from all of this, now is the best time for it. I'm afraid that your father's recent visit had unearthed a few hatchets that were already buried, but after this, I'm sure they'll stay buried."

"Yeah, I know," Daisuke muttered.

His mother walked closer to him, putting her hand again on his shoulder. "Is that why you look rather tired lately? Because you've been worrying about your dad coming over again?"

"No, n-not really. . ." Daisuke did not know if he could ever tell his mother about the real reason he had been feeling troubled all week. Worrying about Natsuki left little room for him to focus properly on other things. It felt like a delicate balancing act that could set him off at the first sign of trouble, and he was not so sure if he could deal with worrying other things at the moment. The fact that his family's dilemma with his father reminded him of Natsuki's issues did not help either.

"I just don't feel like talking too much about Dad right now," he said, deciding to be a bit honest. "I don't even know if I'll be able to face him properly like I did last time. I mean, of course I wanna keep you company when he drops by again, Mom, but stress has been getting to me nowadays. I'm thinking about a lot of things right now, and I don't need more questions from Dad or Hiroko being cranky at him . . . if she'll be there when he visits, that is. If you guys are fine with me just . . . sitting there while you guys talk, then sure. Any more than that, I don't know. . ."

He bowed his head, feeling ashamed that he couldn't give his mother more reassurance. Had things been different, he would be willing to face his father with the same surprising level of openness he had shown last time. The week's conflict boiled down to one person, and it made his anger flare up again. _It's that bastard's fault. If he didn't hurt Natsuki again . . . if he didn't hurt Natsuki ever . . ._

His mother's voice calmed his somewhat. "I'll finish cleaning up here. You go on upstairs and rest, alright? After that . . . I don't know. Maybe I'll give your dad a call before the night ends."

"Mom—" Daisuke began, but his mother forestalled his words.

"It's okay, son." She smiled. "It's okay."

Following his mother's wish, Daisuke left the kitchen with a sigh, making his way upstairs to his room. He still needed to continue designing and drawing for those banners that his classmates needed, but at least he would be able to work in silence and reflect on his thoughts privately.

As he reached the top of the stairs, though, he found Hiroko sitting in front of the door of her room, staring up at the ceiling. She turned around when she heard him coming.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah," replied his sister. "I was just . . . never mind. I'm sorry if I was being really cranky earlier downstairs."

"Nah, that's fine, sis. We understand where you're coming from." Daisuke walked closer to her and sat down on the floor with her. "Like I said, we're all tired right now, so we can't really process things as well as we want to."

Hiroko looked at him. "Trouble at school?"

"I guess you can call it that," Daisuke mumbled.

Silence stretched between them for a few moments. Hiroko spoke up again after a while. "Do you think Dad's really telling the truth this time?"

Daisuke glanced at her, frowning. "About what?"

"About coming back to . . . t-to settle things between him and us before he leaves. Again, I might add. Anyway, you talked to him when he came over, right? Did he look sincere to you?"

"Oh. Well . . . yeah. He seemed pretty honest to me." Sifting through his thoughts about that evening, Daisuke found no proof indeed to show that his father had faked his sincerity about wanting to see and talk to them. "We only managed to talk a bit more before he left. He apologized."

His sister scoffed a little. "I'm sure he did. He didn't talk to you that much when he left. Me, on the other hand . . . well, I was the one who found out about his affair, right? And I'm the eldest child to boot. No wonder he's still trying hard to talk to me after all these years. Maybe that's why Mom also wants me to be there when he comes by again."

Daisuke felt the bitterness lacing his sister's voice, and he knew that she was trying hard not to go on a more aggressive tirade. Hiroko went on, "If he really wanted to talk to me—to us, and Mom—then why didn't he even try calling just to check on us?"

"Well, you would've shut him down as soon as he tried, right?" said Daisuke.

"Maybe, but at least it'd help me see that he actually does care," Hiroko hissed. "It just feels off that he cares all of a sudden now that he's about to move to another city for good with that woman of his. It's why I'm having such a hard time buying into his crap. I mean, he lied to all of us before, right?"

Had he not heard his father's words during his last visit, Daisuke would have an easier time sympathizing with his sister's reasoning. Still, he imagined that perhaps Hiroko was merely looking for more reasons to justify her bitter thoughts about their father—and to soothe the pain that came from his error and departure, no doubt.

"I think we can give him the benefit of the doubt this time," he told Hiroko. "It has to also be difficult on his part to settle things like he wants, right? If he wasn't serious in the first place, then why would he go through all this trouble to talk to us?"

Hiroko scoffed again. "You sound pretty sure. It's like you're not even mad at him anymore for what he did."

"Maybe I'm no longer as mad as you still are, but it doesn't mean I wasn't affected," Daisuke remarked. "There are always times when I imagine how life would've been if Mom and Dad didn't split up. Every time I look at Mom working in the diner, I think about that."

"I see. . ." Hiroko rested her head back against the door to her room. "You and me both, little bro."

Daisuke chuckled softly. "Anyway, why don't you consider being there during his visit? I know that you won't do it for Dad, but at least you can do it for Mom, right? She's gonna feel a lot more comfortable if we were both there with her, I'm sure. Besides, we've got nothing to lose. After this, Dad's not gonna be coming back to bother us or anyone else around here anymore."

Hiroko stared at the floor, looking pensive as she mulled on his words for a few moments. "For Mom, huh?" she finally asked.

"For Mom," Daisuke repeated, giving her a small smile.

Hiroko let out a long sigh. "Alright, I'll think about it," she mumbled in a resigned tone.

"Good," said Daisuke, patting her on the shoulder. "Anyway, I have to go in my room now. Still have a bit of work to do before I tuck myself in."

"I'll try not to play too much loud stuff on my speaker this time," said his sister.

"Eh, I kinda like some of the songs you play," said Daisuke as the two of them stood up. "They're kinda growing on me."

"Well, it's kinda hard not to get accustomed to music when someone's playing it every day in a neighboring room, right?" asked Hiroko.

"True. Maybe everyone down the block is already starting to warm up to your tastes by now. Pretty soon, they'll be blasting music along with you," Daisuke added jokingly.

The two of them laughed lightly. Hiroko pulled him into a one-armed hug. "Thanks for talking to me, Dai," she mumbled. "I really appreciate it."

Daisuke patted her back. "Just don't get too used to it. Little brothers don't do this often."

Hiroko laughed some more at that. "Whatever you say, little bro."

As he made his way into his room at last, Daisuke sighed to himself. Though it felt good to help his sister in reconsidering her thoughts for Saturday, he felt rather regretful that he had not managed to find help for himself regarding his worries, and the thought brought him back down to earth in an instant. On instinct, he went to his phone to see if Natsuki had texted, but then he remembered that she had already gone to sleep for the night. Not wanting to disturb her, he decided to just get on with the banner designing, hoping to find some peace in the lines that he would soon be drawing.


	45. Chapter 45 - Bare

_A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters._

* * *

**CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE – BARE (YuKi)**

Naoki ran through the list one more time, checking to see if there were things that weren't in the shopping basket just yet. So far, he was assured that everything was accounted for—construction papers, two bottles of glue, a few decorative stickers, and two illustration boards, half-sized. Only paper cups, popsicle sticks, some poster paint and colored wires remained for him to find and put in the basket. Such constant vigilance seemed unnecessary, but he would rather have everything at hand for later instead of risking the inconvenience of forgetting something and delaying what they would be doing.

Yuri returned after a short while with the remaining items, clutching them all as best as she could in her arms. "Is this enough, Naoki?" she asked him.

After looking over the objects closely, Naoki gave her an approving nod. "Looks enough to me."

With that, Yuri deposited everything carefully in their basket. "I suppose we'll find the remaining things we need at my house, yes?"

"Sure looks like it," said Naoki, folding the list and stowing it away in his pocket. "Are you sure you want to do this tonight?"

"I-It would be a good start, right?" said Yuri, looking at him rather hesitantly. "At least we'll be able to finish up a good number of the products and c-cut ourselves some slack."

"I know," said Naoki, "it's just that . . . you might be caught off guard, that's all."

"Don't worry. I've informed my grandmother beforehand about it," Yuri explained, "and she was gracious enough to look for the things that we could use. I have them in my room already, s-so we can start working as soon as we get there."

"That's good," Naoki mused. "Remind me to thank your grandmother for giving us what spare materials she has."

"It's n-nothing," said Yuri with a shy smile. "Grandmother is always ready to help me when it comes to things about school."

"I'm sure she is," said Naoki, returning her smile.

The suggestion to start working on the homemade products they would be selling for the school festival had come all of a sudden from Yuri earlier that day at school. The festival itself was still more than two weeks away, and some of their other classmates were also assigned to help with the products, so they could always start late if they wanted. Of course, Naoki was also fine with starting early—it eased up their workload and gave them fewer things to tackle later on, he knew—but the fact that the suggestion had come from Yuri was rather surprising for him. Then again, if this was a byproduct of the gradual improvement of Yuri's mood after the few times she had bonded with Natsuki in his absence, Naoki had no problem with that. Thus far, his other worries about Yuri and self-harm had receded slightly, allowing him to go about without feeling as anxious as he did before.

The biggest hiccup of the week had come from Kenta's fierce scuffle—and, to Naoki's sadness, his three-day suspension. He had found out through Kenta himself, who temporarily broke his self-imposed exile from the quadrumvirate in the incident's aftermath long enough to break the news to Daisuke and Akihiro as well. As much as he knew that this was the ultimate price that Kenta had to pay for his actions, Naoki felt for his friend greatly, especially given his firsthand observation of the incident and how Kenta was provoked into letting the first punch fly. Moreover, it saddened him to think that their fearless leader would hit a snag like this after undergoing several good changes, a thought that Monika would undoubtedly share. Kenta's seat would be empty for the next three days, but Naoki knew that he would be gone from the quadrumvirate for much longer out of shame. Thus far, Yuri made no move to speak about the suspension or Kenta's actions; Naoki sensed that she was doing so to not bring his mood down any further, and also out of respect for Kenta.

Outside _Gallagher's_, the evening cold seemed merciless. Though their jackets worked well to protect them from the chill, their exposed faces felt the wind's icy sting considerably. Rain had fallen sporadically for the past few days, strengthening the nippy air of autumn. It was as if the weather itself began reflecting the general gloom brought by the past couple of weeks to Naoki and the quadrumvirate.

Yuri wrapped her jacket around herself more tightly, pulling it up to shield her face a little more from the cold. "D-Do you want to take a cab back to my house?" she asked. "Or are you fine w-with walking in the cold like this?"

"I think a cab would be perfect right now," Naoki acknowledged. Though Yuri's place was not that far, the things that they had bought and the evening's chill would slow them down considerably.

And so, after waiting patiently in the relatively warmer confines of _Gallagher's_, the two of them managed to hail a taxi for a ride to the Hoshino household. Naoki observed the buildings and people on the sidewalks as the vehicle drove down the streets. Like them, there were more people now choosing to travel by means of public transportation or with their own vehicles in order to avoid the cold outside. The night market and other such outdoor venues were still populated by customers and visitors, though there was a noticeable reduction in their numbers whenever dusk had fallen and the day's cold intensified. Some still braved the cold by increasing the layers of clothing that they wore for warmth, and Naoki knew that it would only be a matter of time before he would add a scarf and some winter mitts to his clothes whenever he ventured outside.

Inside the cab next to him, Yuri was looking over what they had bought from _Gallagher's_, evidently checking if they had forgotten anything. Naoki laid a hand on her arm, prompting her to look up with a slight blush.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"L-Looks like that, yes," said Yuri in reply. "I was just wondering if there was something w-we should have bought that wasn't on the list. . ."

"Well, Ritsuo told me that everything in the list should be enough for now," Naoki mused. "Maybe the others are already taking care of whatever we might've missed."

"I suppose so. . ." Yuri laughed a little. "Maybe I'm just worrying too much again."

"Don't worry, I understand," said Naoki, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze.

In spite of the progressing effects of autumn, the Hoshino household still looked as quaint as it ever did, with its well-tended garden and its rustic architecture. Naoki imagined that even in the cold and at her age, Yuri's grandmother worked hard to keep the garden in shape, and he felt his respect for her rise. Indeed, when the two of them entered the house, they found her in the kitchen cooking instead of resting somewhere.

"Good evening, Grandmother," said Yuri when she approached her.

"Oh, Granddaughter, you're here," said the old woman, looking around from the boiling pot that she was tending to on the old gas stove. "And I see you've brought your handsome friend with you again!"

Yuri blushed as she glanced at Naoki, who smiled warmly. "Good evening, ma'am. I'm just here to work with Yuri for some things at school."

"Yes, she's told me that earlier this morning," said the old woman, ambling closer to them. "She also said that you'll need some of my old needlework things as well. They're in her room right now. If you two need anything more, just come downstairs and ask. I'll just be here preparing dinner. You _are _going to stay for dinner, right, young man?" she added, looking shrewdly at Naoki.

Naoki felt surprised. "Dinner, ma'am?" he asked.

"Yes, and I think that this time around you should stay," said Yuri's grandmother, tutting. She turned to Yuri, whose face was now turning scarlet. "Granddaughter, I told you that it's fine if you have some of your friends stay over to eat with us. This young man has been here a couple of times before, and not once did you consider inviting him to stay for dinner. Not a single time! It's like you don't even want him or any of your other friends to stay longer."

Once again, Yuri shot a glance at Naoki, and a knowing look flitted discreetly between them even through their discomfiture. Obviously, Yuri's grandmother had no way of knowing what had transpired during Naoki's past two visits here and how it ran off any thought of staying then.

"I-If it's alright with Naoki, then p-perhaps—" Yuri began.

"It's totally alright with me, Yuri, don't worry!" Naoki offered, not wanting to let Yuri's discomfiture rise any further. "I mean, a-as long as it's not a problem w-with anyone."

"It's fine, it's fine," said Yuri's grandmother with a dismissive wave. "You two just carry on with whatever you need doing. Dinner will be ready by the time you're done."

"Yes, ma'am. We'll be going upstairs then," said Naoki cordially.

Five minutes later, in her room, Yuri quickly shut the door. "I'm s-sorry if Grandmother was rather straightforward back there," she said in a worried tone. "She's been telling me those things for a while now, b-but I never expected her to actually m-mention them to you as well!"

"It's okay," said Naoki with a reassuring smile. "I'll admit, I was caught a bit off guard by it all. I imagined that we might be taking too much from her already if I stay for dinner, but it'd also seem rude of me to refuse."

"Grandmother likes having people around here, so she's always fine with preparing for visitors. And she wants me bond some more around here with any friends I might have," Yuri explained. "She's always seen how I kept my distance from other people, so she often encourages me to invite any classmates or friends over. M-Maybe she saw that I might be feeling lonely, and I didn't w-want to disappoint her at times by telling her outright that . . . that I had n-no friends that I could invite over for dinner or tea."

"But things are different now, right?" Naoki proffered. "I mean, you have, well . . . m-me," he added in a rather shy tone. "And then there's Natsuki, and Daisuke as well as the others."

Yuri smiled timidly. "I suppose you're right. But so far, y-you're the only one that I've ever had the courage t-to invite."

"I understand," said Naoki, his shyness deepening at that. "But don't forget that you've been doing pretty well with Natsuki for the past few days, too."

And indeed Yuri was doing well; from what she had told Naoki, she had been speaking to Natsuki during the times when he or Daisuke were absent from their sides at lunch. Yuri spoke of how Natsuki was starting to become gradually cordial—or as cordial as things could be with Natsuki—the more they spoke about their reading interests regardless of how different manga books were from horror novels. It made Naoki happy to think that Yuri was starting to shed her social anxiety bit by bit in favor of bonding with a new friend, just as he was happy that Natsuki found some more respite from the conflict of her situation at home in Yuri.

"Well, we don't talk as often as I do with y-you, or her with Daisuke," Yuri acknowledged, "but I always told her that if she was with no one, she could join us for lunch, and maybe we can have her come along with us when we go out a-after school."

"What did she say to that?"

"She told me that she was fine with simply hanging out at school. Though she did joke once again that I m-might be just trying to get her attention or something s-since I'm always telling her these things."

The two of them laughed lightly at that. "I bet Daisuke gets a lot of these quips from her," said Naoki. "At any rate, let's see if we can get them to tag along with us in the future. I mean, with the next get-together being delayed and all . . ."

At that, however, the momentary mirth in the atmosphere faded somewhat as he remembered Kenta's situation and how it had delayed the get-together that they had been anticipating. Naoki wondered for a moment how long it would be before everyone got back on track.

"Anyway, shall we begin working now?" he asked, deciding to forestall the topic before it took off.

"O-Oh, yes, of course!" said Yuri.

With the pointers that they had seen and downloaded from the internet, the two of them made some good headway into their craft—and a colorful task it was. Naoki cut through the illustration boards and construction papers and carefully broke popsicle sticks while Yuri measured and wrote on the paper cups the part where they would be cutting through. Nearby were the spare sewing decorations that Yuri's grandmother had taken out for them—buttons and sequins of various colors and sizes, spare spools of yarn, and even some spare patches. Painting the cups would come later once they had glued on the bits and pieces they needed, but the small poster paint canisters that they had bought earlier sat near them, ready to be prepared once they had finished decorating. As they worked, Naoki wondered how things would be if they had Natsuki with them; Daisuke had narrated a few times before of how utterly creative Natsuki was when decorating her projects for school.

"I'm done measuring these paper cups," said Yuri after a while. "How about you?"

"Not quite yet," said Naoki as he cut up a piece of illustration board. "We should've bought an extra pair of scissors, now that I think about it. Do you need these now?"

"Oh, no need!" said Yuri. "I'll j-just get one of m—"

But her voice wavered a little at that, as if she just remembered something. Naoki glanced at her. "What is it?" he asked.

"N-Nothing," Yuri murmured in reply, fidgeting. "I'll just b-borrow one of Grandmother's sewing scissors!"

With that, she stood up and left her room posthaste. Though Naoki was not entirely sure with his answer about what she had hesitated to say, he remembered her knife collection and, once again, how it tied up with his own musings about her possible predicament. Again, Yuri's lightening mood had lessened the need for him to worry about that, but it always lingered at the end of each day, nudging at the back of his head during the times when he had no homework or novels to occupy his mind.

Yuri returned around a minute later, carrying with her a large pair of red scissors. She smiled nervously when she entered, sat back down on the floor and took a paper cup at random to begin cutting. Not wanting to dwell on his somber thoughts or intensify Yuri's unease, Naoki shifted to another topic as if her sudden apprehension had never happened.

"Have you made DIY goods like these before, Yuri?"

Yuri glanced around, a bit surprised. "Oh, not yet, to be honest," Yuri replied as she snipped through the marks she had made on her cup. "It feels like quite a lot of work, though I think that's only because I've done other things instead. Like helping Grandmother with her sewing and decorating, for instance."

"Really? So do you know how to sew?" asked Naoki.

"N-Not really," Yuri admitted with a small laugh. "That's a bit more complex than this, to be sure. It's a marvel that Grandmother can still sew at her age. Some of the decorative things you might've seen hanging in the hallway are her works."

"Wow, that's impressive," said Naoki. "Does she also make _kumihimo_?"

"No, but she has a few friends that did. It's definitely an interesting craft, but one even more difficult compared to sewing, from what I've read."

"Yes, our grandmother from the father side made _kumihimo_. Dad told us that she learned the craft from her mother, and now her daughters have taken it up as well in the rural parts of Yamanashi. I've seen some of their work, and it's honestly amazing."

"I wish I could've seen that as well," said Yuri in wonder.

Naoki laughed. "If we ever end up in Yamanashi, remind me to show you."

The work continued, and soon they had managed to piece together some nice decorations with each other's help. From animal designs to abstract decorations, it was simple enough once they had cut out what needed cutting and glued what needed gluing. The good part about it all was that though they had instructions to follow about shapes and whatnot, they could also let their creative juices flow regarding which color of yarn to wrap around a cup or which button to use for animal eyes. It reminded Naoki a lot of Arts and Crafts back in kindergarten.

"Are we gonna start painting them now?" he asked.

"I want to, but maybe Grandmother is f-finished cooking dinner now," said Yuri, looking at him bashfully. "I'll go check if you want."

"Oh, sure thing!"

When Yuri returned a minute later after going downstairs, she said, "She's finished. D-Do you want to go eat now or . . . ?"

"Well, it'd be rude if we let her eat all alone," said Naoki with a smile. "Let's go then."

The smell of freshly cooked okayu_—_rice porridge topped with scallions, nori and salted salmon pieces—wafted tantalizingly in the air as the two of them reentered the kitchen. There were three bowls full on the small dining table there, and a larger pot sitting right in the middle atop a small pot stand. Smaller cups of green tea sat right next to them. Some extra condiments for the okayu and a plate full of pickled vegetables completed the rustic tabletop scene.

"Were you and your family born around here, young man?" Yuri's grandmother asked as they ate. "Or did you move in from another prefecture?"

"More on the latter for my parents, ma'am," replied Naoki through a spoonful of okayu. "My father was originally from Yamanashi, while my mother lived in Tochigi. They moved here a few years before I was born."

"Ah, at least that's closer by a great deal compared to Hiroshima," said Yuri's grandmother. "I'm sure Granddaughter here has already told you before, that's where her parents are right now."

For a moment, Naoki remembered what Kenta had told him and the rest of the quadrumvirate about Monika's parents. "It sounds like Yuri's parents are involved in some rather considerable work."

"Yes, and this isn't the first time that work's taken them someplace far," Yuri's grandmother stated. "It's not too bad, although I never really fancied the distance from here to Hiroshima or any other place their company takes them. Not that I'm complaining or anything, mind you—Granddaughter is anything but poor company. I could never ask for a more obedient or patient young woman to help me around the house, that's for sure. I just wish she went out more and brought her friends over here more often."

"T-There's no need for that, Grandmother," Yuri stammered.

"Nonsense, Granddaughter," said the old woman. "You can always bring your classmates over if you want, I won't complain. In fact, I'm glad that you started doing just that with this dashing young gentleman over here." She nodded towards Naoki, a shrewd gleam shining behind her pale lavender eyes. "A pleasant surprise, to be sure—I wasn't expecting the first person you'd bring over here to be a boy."

Yuri turned pink as she also shot a glance at him. "I-It's just for schoolwork, though."

"Well, whatever it's for, I'm glad that you're bringing him here more often," her grandmother simpered. "As long as there's no hanky-panky, of course, with you two being alone in a room and all!"

"O-Of course there'll be none of that, Grandmother!" exclaimed Yuri, her face bypassing pink as it reddened further. Again, she glanced at Naoki, the look in her eyes imploring him to forgive her grandmother's candid remarks. Naoki laughed lightly to show that it was all in good fun even as he felt heat suffuse his ears, which he knew had nothing to do with the hot okayu.

"So are you an avid reader like Granddaughter is, young man?" Yuri's grandmother went on.

"Yes, ma'am," said Naoki in reply. "That's how Yuri and I got to know each other better as time passed. It isn't often that I meet someone who has the same passion for reading like I do."

"That's really nice to hear," said the old woman, nodding. "Kids nowadays often focus on their computers and cellphones too much that they've forgotten what it's like to read a good book every once in a while. Most of the works that Granddaughter has read are old books that I used to own. I figured that it'd be good to hand them down to her ever since my eyes have started growing poorer. It's a wonder that she hasn't worn out her own eyes enough to start wearing eyeglasses like you."

"Yes, it's a price one has to pay for being an avid reader," Naoki remarked with a chuckle.

"One that I m-might pay soon, I might add," Yuri chimed in timidly. "Sometimes I marvel at how my eyes can keep things up."

Her grandmother laughed softly at that. "A small price indeed in exchange for a good adventure, am I right, Granddaughter? I swear that every time I enter your room to deliver fresh clothes or call you down for dinner, I'll always find you with an open book in front of you. And sometimes you won't even notice at all that I'm in the room."

"I know what you mean, ma'am. It's easy to become engrossed in a good story as you go, and I'm sure Yuri knows that feeling better than anyone," said Naoki, looking at Yuri with a grin and causing her to blush once again. For a moment, he imagined just how elegant she would look with eyeglasses adorning her face, but the thought was marred as he remembered the red stains on her sleeve.

* * *

Painting the cups had been tricky at first as the two of them avoided painting over the buttons and strings and sequins that they had glued onto them, but Yuri was all focus. Determined to make Naoki feel better after Kenta's mishap and make up for the disastrous nature of his prior visits to her place, she had vowed to keep her excitement and anxiety in check. That had been surprisingly manageable thus far, though there were a few moments when she thought she would fail, courtesy of Naoki's smile and her grandmother's words.

And of course, there was the fact that her knives were close by.

It was hard for Yuri to pretend that Naoki's previous visits had never happened, especially with the fact that both visits had moments where she was running from him in a desperate attempt to regain her bearings and hide her dark secret. Naoki never spoke much about those incidents afterwards, but Yuri knew it would be foolish to imagine that someone as perceptive and intelligent as him still had no idea about what she was doing, especially given how she had been so despairingly obvious about them. If Kenta's suspension provided them any form of comfort at all, it is the fact that it delivered both a distraction and a chance for her to cheer Naoki up. Still, the lingering knowledge that her knives were under the same roof with the two of them was threatening to unseat her focus and control over her anxiety more than anything at the moment.

And so, directing her focus in short but concise ways, Yuri doubled down on her efforts and took on their next tasks with increased diligence. After the two of them had returned to her room, she immediately set about opening the canisters of poster paint that they had bought, set them down on pieces of paper to catch any wayward droplets of paint, and divided the decorated cups equally between her and Naoki.

"So how far are you into _Markov_?" he asked her after a while, squinting as he carefully traced a line of blue paint on the cup he was holding. "It's the thirty-third chapter for me."

"I'm at the thirty-sixth," Yuri replied, careful not to let any green paint trickle down the side of her own cup. "I think I read ahead t-too much again. Do you want me to wait for you to catch up?"

"No, it's okay," said Naoki. "I've been a bit, ah . . . preoccupied lately, so I haven't been able to read at a better rate. Maybe once we're done with our DIYs, I'll get back on track."

"If you s-say so. . ." Yuri wondered privately what Naoki was exactly preoccupied with apart from the incident with Kenta, but she quashed the thought in a flash. "Do you suppose the other students at school will like these enough to buy them?"

"It depends on the buyer, but hey, they make neat pencil cups, don't you think?" Naoki proffered. "And if not, they would at least look good on shelves as decorations. Our handiwork isn't the neatest, I'll admit, but it kinda adds to their overall flair. Makes them look abstract in a way. Even if we mess up with the colors, we can at least go crazy on other shades and pass it off by saying that multicolored animals were always a thing," he added, laughing.

"Well, I'll admit, it's not every day that you see a red penguin or a blue cat," said Yuri, laughing with him.

By the time they had finished more than half of their cups, smudges of varying colors had stained their fingertips and palms as they experimented with different shades for every other cup. Yuri had to go to the bathroom a couple of times to clean her hands as best as she could underneath running water, always remembering to roll back her sleeves and hide her scars after she was done. Naoki, on the other hand, did not seem to mind dirtying his hands with paint, although he was also extra careful not to get any on his uniform.

"I'm sorry if I'm not talking too much," he said when she returned for the third time from the bathroom. "I hope you don't think that I'm not in any mood to talk right now or anything. All this work has me focusing a lot more than I expected."

"Oh, that's okay," said Yuri, giving him a reassuring smile as she sat down across him. "It does get you hooked in after a while, doesn't it?"

"It does," said Naoki genially, "especially when you're with good company."

Yuri felt blood rush to her face at that. "I know what you mean. Regardless of the activity, I feel that as long as I'm with a good friend like . . . like y-you, I don't mind even if we don't talk too much. Just having you around always makes things n-nicer."

Naoki regarded her for a moment with his eyes, those cool grey eyes that always seemed to radiate warmth towards her. "Thank you, Yuri," he said with a smile.

Once again, Yuri felt the flush on her face deepen. Naoki did not seem to notice, however, for he merely continued painting in silence as she sat there with her heart aflutter. The words she had uttered seemed like nothing new given how close she and Naoki had grown, but their effects lingered in the air around them like diffused essential oils nonetheless. Feeling her heartbeat rise, she quickly bowed her head and looked around for something to do before her excitement grew too much. It was then that she remembered the task at hand, and so she reached out towards her paint brush on the floor to continue painting before her vision became fuzzy.

As she leaned forward to grab the brush, however, her forehead bumped into something. At the same time, she heard Naoki cry out with both pain and surprise. She drew back hastily just in time to see him with his glasses askew across his face, and she realized that it was his head that she had bumped into.

"Oh, dear! I'm s-sorry!" she exclaimed.

"It's okay, no harm done," Naoki said with a shaky laugh, readjusting his glasses with his free hand. "I was gonna get some more paint, but I didn't notice that you were leaning forward too. Are you hurt?"

"N-No, I was just startled, that's all. I'm really sorry!" Yuri ignored the dull pain on her forehead as she straightened herself up. It was then that she noticed flecks of blue paint on Naoki's face.

"There's p-paint on your face!" she said worriedly, drawing a bit closer to him.

"Is there?" Naoki touched his cheeks lightly with his free hand a few times to check. When he glanced back at her, he added, "Oh, there's some on your face, too. I must've accidentally flicked this brush a bit too wildly. . ."

Not knowing what else to say, Yuri stood up hastily. "S-Stay there, I'll go get something for the stains!"

With that, she rushed out into the hallway and towards the bathroom, much like the time that she had run from Naoki after spilling tea on his notes. This time, however, in spite of the voices around her blaming her for this newest mishap, Yuri went with a cleaner purpose in mind. _I will not let the evening end like this._

She whispered a quiet word of thanks when she saw that her grandmother had already stocked up on some clean face towels in the bathroom's cabinet. She quickly rolled her sleeves back, took a towel from the cabinet, and ran it under some hot water at the sink. Once it was damp enough, she turned around and threw open the door to make her way back. However, she skidded to a halt as she saw Naoki standing outside the bathroom. The concerned look on her face sent her worries into overdrive.

"W-What are you doing out here?" she asked, breathless.

"I wanted to make sure that you were alright," Naoki replied. "I didn't want you to w-worry too much about this."

"O-Oh, it's fine," said Yuri, nodding to show that she understood even as her heart beat faster. "It's just that . . . it's an embarrassing thing, really. . . I shouldn't have, y-you know. . ." She wrung the towel between her hands, causing some water to trickle to the floor.

She heard Naoki speak up. "Here, let me—"

For some reason, however, Naoki did not finish his sentence. Yuri saw that he seemed to have frozen where he stood, like he had been struck dumb by an unseen force. Momentarily roused from her own apprehension as she noticed this stillness, she looked up. "W-What is it?" she asked. "What's wr—?"

But it was then that she noticed just where Naoki was staring. She followed his gaze and glanced back down at her hands, and it was then that she saw.

_My sleeves._

In a fleeting moment of hindsight, one that would pass by a person's mind right before they fall or die, Yuri knew that she should have remembered to unroll her sleeves the moment she finished her business at the bathroom sink. Still, could she have helped it? She had been overcome by her anxiety then, just like how she was now being overwhelmed by a growing feeling of horror.

Feeling her heart trying to burst free from her chest, she stumbled backwards against the wall behind her, the damp towel falling from her trembling hands. All around her, the walls of her home seemed to close in on her, intent on crushing her into nothingness, and yet Yuri knew that would be better than existing right now. Her breath grew more ragged by the second, catching in her throat as she tried in vain to make sense of everything around her right now. Soon, her knees gave way, making her sink to the floor.

Naoki was right there with her, dropping to his knees and bracing her by the arms. Yuri could hear his voice calling out to her, but the sound . . . it was as if she was plummeting straight into the abyss, where only the echoes of a roiling blackness prevailed around her, distorting all light and sound and making it seem like she was drowning underwater while Naoki was calling out to her from above. Her body shook and jerked a few times, and she imagined for a moment that she had lost all control of her faculties, but it was not so; Naoki was shaking her gently.

"Yuri? _Yuri!_" he kept calling out.

Slowly, almost against her will, Yuri felt the world return around her, felt the firmness of Naoki's hands gripping her shoulders, saw his handsome face with those cool grey eyes and the flecks of paint on his cheeks. The worry in his eyes had intensified, and he looked to be fighting hard to keep it in check. Succumbing to hysterics, she did not know whether to laugh or cry or scream.

Quick, fearful tears trickled down her face involuntarily. "I'm sorry," she managed to say in a weak voice. "I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry. I'm r-really sorry. . ."

"Yuri . . ." Naoki began, but she shook her head rapidly.

"I'm really sorry. I'm really s-s-sorry. . ." she kept whimpering, scrabbling against her forearm as she tried to cover up her scars. Her fingers felt numb, however, and all she managed to do was to tug feebly at her rolled-up sleeve. It was as if her body had finally given up all thought of concealing her scars—for was there indeed any point now? That was when she felt Naoki's hand cover hers, forestalling her efforts. When he spoke again, the calmness of his voice belied the anxiousness in his eyes.

"Come on. Let's get you back to your room first."

Yuri did not know that it was possible for her heartbeat to rise further than it already is, given how she felt like she would collapse or vomit at any moment from its pressure. As if to reaffirm his words, Naoki eased her up slowly, grabbing the fallen face towel with his free hand. In spite of her terror and shame, Yuri responded to his efforts by getting up gingerly. When her knees buckled, Naoki simply put her arm around his shoulder to support her further.

The walk back to her room seemed to take forever, even if it was just one door down. At certain intervals along the way, Yuri contemplated running back to the bathroom to hide there forever, but she kept moving with Naoki instead. Her tears kept falling, and it was all she could do not to sob and draw her grandmother upstairs. Thankfully, no one showed up to witness her being half-carried into her own room by Naoki, though that did little to distract her mind from the growing dread and horror within her. Inside her room, the colorful paper cups that they had been working on seemed to mock the grave atmosphere that she brought inside with her.

Naoki set her down on her bed, sitting next to her. "Yuri, look at me."

Yuri, on the other hand, merely shook her head again. Some of her tears fell on Naoki's arms from the movement. Undeterred, Naoki took her hand in his once more.

"Yuri, please."

Even as she was lost in her stupor of dismay, Yuri took note of the plea in his voice. His fingers tightened around hers. Her scars, on the other hand, lay bare for all to see, though she saw out of the corner of her eye that Naoki was not looking at them. Instead, his gaze was fixated on her, and she appreciated him even more for that. She knew that the longer she ignored the dreadful elephant in the room, the more she was betraying him in a way. As despondent and terrified as she felt, she could not seem to find it in her heart to do that.

She looked at him, her eyes leaking more tears. Naoki looked as if he was about to cry as well at any moment, but he was fighting back his own emotions—for her, she knew.

"You've s-s-seen them," she stammered tearfully. "You . . . Y-You know now. . ."

She stared deeply into his eyes as she spoke, looking for any signs from him that would reinforce her consternation—a look of disgust, of disappointment, of hatred even—anything that would tell her just how much of a horrible, filthy and corrupted being she was, a pariah undeserving of any attention or affection. Perhaps then she can come to terms with the fact that after this day, she would be left to her own devices, free to feed the hunger of the beast that had her in a tight grip, free to . . .

Naoki placed his other hand above her left forearm, right next to her scars. Yuri looked down, fearing what he would do, but he simply tugged at her rolled-up sleeve. His movements were careful, precise, as if he was wary of accidentally hurting her. He kept pulling and tugging until at last, her sleeve was back to its normal length, putting her scars out of sight. When this was done, he took the damp towel she had taken from the bathroom and started wiping at her face gently. The fabric felt cold against her skin, making her jolt a little, but she soon found its sensation comforting, like a breath of cold air during a hot day. In a way, it reminded her of the feel of cold steel against the bare skin of her forearm, but the energy in this gesture felt . . . different, almost pure. The towel crossed her cheeks lightly, and Yuri saw that Naoki was not only wiping away the paint stains there, but also her tears.

When he was done, he set the towel down and gazed intently into her eyes once again. His gestures had calmed her down a little, but the foreboding still remained like a weight in her stomach. In all the days that she had spent with him, Yuri had never seen him look so mature, so utterly serious, even with the blue specks on his cheeks.

This time, he held on to both of her hands. "I'll help you."

Yuri regarded him for a few wordless moments. Staring back at him, she saw no hint of repulsion or disenchantment—instead, she saw only _him_. She bowed her head and pulled him into a tight embrace, new tears trickling from her eyes. Soon, she felt his arms wrap around her in response. It was a comfort unlike anything she had ever experienced.


	46. Chapter 46 - Abridging Distance

**CHAPTER FORTY-SIX – ABRIDGING DISTANCE (MoniKenta)**

As the days passed by, Kenta knew that penance was still a long way off.

A short trip to the disciplinarian's office three days after the fight had told him all that he needed to know, long before he was even told about the verdict and given the written notice for it. Kenta knew that he should be drawing comfort from the fact that his opponent then had been suspended alongside him, but it was a poor trade-off for everything else that he needed to make up for.

Outside of school, his mother had been the first to know about the fight; deciding not to hide the truth of his situation and make things worse, he had told her everything once he had gotten home that day. Shocked and infuriated, she had taken up the better part of an hour interrogating and chastising him, reminding him of his past fights and the previous times that he had been suspended. It only got worse when his sister Kanae arrived home from work and joined in once she had been told about everything. Kenta took all their verbal admonitions in stride, not even attempting to defend himself. By the time he handed over the written notice of his suspension to his mother three days later, she had run out of words to say. As small as Kenta felt while listening to her angry words during the previous days, her silence made him feel a lot worse when she accepted the notice from him.

The next step had been to tell Daisuke and Akihiro. Even though he expected Naoki to immediately brief them in as a firsthand witness to the scuffle, Kenta decided to notify them himself. By then, he had already made up his mind to stay away from them as he sought penance and reflected on his failure regardless of whether he would be suspended or not. Daisuke and Akihiro offered what little comfort they could through text messages, but they respected his self-imposed exile nonetheless.

Of course, there was the most painful consequence of them all.

Kenta's guilt and shame deepened as he remembered how Monika had practically rushed down to confront him following the incident. Every rebuke she had uttered then felt even worse than the verbal lashing he had gotten from his mother and sister combined later that day. Though Monika had softened her stance with him as they talked and even defended him when his one-time rival came over seeking revenge, Kenta could not bear to look her in the eye nor even text her since then. Monika often texted him during the hours that she was not busy, checking to see if he was doing fine and offering some words of comfort at times. But just like with his best friends, he did not read her messages in depth nor reply to any of them, feeling that he had done very little to deserve them right now.

Left with nothing to do during his suspension, Kenta decided to instead distract himself by doing chores at home and going out for a quiet walk around the neighborhood. The first day of that had gone by routinely as his mother gave him a number of tasks to complete every few hours. It was all easy enough—buy some groceries, clean up his room, take out the trash, move some things that needed moving. Kenta took on the tasks willingly; at the very least, they helped take his mind off of the thought of his classmates listening in and feasting on the gossip brought by his scuffle and suspension.

He was busy scrubbing the counters in their kitchen when he heard his mother sit down at the dining table across him. Kenta did not look up, instead focusing on making the countertops gleam with the damp rag that he was using. Any dressing-down he was bound to get at the moment would be nothing that he hadn't heard before.

Instead of telling him off, however, his mother said, "The counters are clean enough. Why don't you rest for now?"

"Don't need to," he mumbled back.

"Aren't you hungry? You didn't eat much earlier."

"I'm fine, Mom."

His mother paused for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was noticeably milder. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Kenta clenched his hand into a fist, squeezing the rag he was holding. It was merely a fleeting gesture, however, for he relaxed his stance almost immediately afterward and kept scrubbing. "Yeah, I'm fine," he repeated.

Seemingly unconvinced, his mother stood up and walked towards him. "I don't have any more chores for you to do. Besides, I think you've learned your lesson, and—"

"I think I need more than a few lessons for what I did, Mom," Kenta said, cutting across her. "If you need something done, even if it's just a small thing, just tell me. It's not like I've got anything else to do or anyone else to talk to right now."

"I think it's better if you rest in your room instead."

"So that I can think about what I did all over again, right?"

"No." His mother placed a hand on his shoulder. "So you can start preparing for school again."

Kenta let out a short, harsh laugh. No matter how much he looked at it, it would take weeks before the incident died down. The other students who resented him for being so close to Monika were bound to have even more verbal vitriol for him now, and there was also the fact that his opponent could be looking for payback outside of school. No amount of preparing can help with that, and neither did Kenta have the drive to even fight back if things went south again.

"It's gonna be a long week filled with walks of shame," he grunted. "Well, it's not like I don't deserve it, right? This is what I get for being too stupid and mucking things up again, I know."

His mother sighed. "There's no need for that kind of talk."

"Oh trust me, Mom. There is," said Kenta. "And if you and Kanae got anything else to say to me, go right ahead. Might as well just keep piling it on so I can finally hammer it in my thick skull and hopefully, _hopefully _not mess up in the near frigging future."

He spoke the last few words with such bitterness that he found himself scrubbing the countertop in front of him with excessive force. Noticing the tone of his voice, his mother gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, but Kenta shrugged her hand off and turned around.

"I'm gonna take out the trash," he muttered, directing his mind towards anything that can distract from his frustration.

"You already did that earlier," said his mother.

Kenta grimaced. "Then I'll clean up in the yard."

"There's nothing there that needs cleaning anymore." With another sigh, his mother placed both of her hands on his shoulders now. "If you don't want to go to your room and rest, you can go ahead and do whatever you want. I just . . . I don't want to hear you saying those things to yourself like that. If you're doing that because your sister and I were too harsh on you, I'm sorry. You know that it's always difficult to be suspended, and even if this isn't the first time it happened, it's still a big deal for us all. But I know that you'll be making up for it at school, just like what you're doing here."

Kenta lowered his gaze. Somehow, he could hear Monika saying such words, and that made him feel even guiltier. After a few more moments of silence, he walked away. "I'll just take a walk outside, then."

As if she saw no point in stopping him further, his mother called out, "Okay. Take care."

The cold air in the streets provided some respite for Kenta as he walked along the sidewalk. He had not bothered to go to his room to get some warmer clothing, but he figured that his strong frame can help him handle the chill in the meantime. People passed him by, never once casting a glance towards him, unmindful of what he was thinking or what he had done. Looking up, he was that the sky above was starting to darken slightly. The recent days had been punctuated by some occasional rains, and Kenta knew that he would have to go back home early if he was to avoid getting caught full-blast by a possible onset of chilly autumn rain. As much as he thought that getting sick was merely an additional penance that he was willing to shoulder, he didn't want to cause any more problems by missing school or having his mother tend to him because of it.

Fifteen minutes into his walk, Kenta settled down on a bench near the night market downtown. He rubbed his arms vigorously to ward off the cold. Given that it was still a school day, he wondered if he would be encountering some of his schoolmates here, and he made sure to keep as low a profile as he could. Still, there were some things that he could not avoid; in particular, the sight of middle-aged men walking to work reminded him of his father. Though his mother had foregone breaking the news to him about his recent suspension, Kenta cannot help but hearken back to the times that his father was told of his antics at school, and how disappointed he had sounded when he talked to him through a video call. Moreover, his far-flung position at Okinawa brought along thoughts of Monika's move to Osaka, and he imagined what he might be missing during his self-imposed exile.

_It can't be helped. Monika's gonna move out, and there'll be nothing you can do about it after mucking things up at school, you dolt. _Even as he dwelt on the resigned tone of his thoughts, however, he felt the urge to kick something in his path out of sheer frustration, even if it was merely a futile gesture of resistance to such a seemingly inexorable truth.

Thankfully, no rain fell as Kenta made his way back home. Nothing much changed as he walked, though he did catch sight of students wearing his school's uniform, telling him that classes for the day were over. He quickened his pace, not wanting to risk being spotted by schoolmates who had questions for him or by more upperclassmen that might have a bone to pick with him.

Along the way, however, he slowed down when he saw a fancy black car approaching him. Granted, there were a lot of fancy black cars in town, but Kenta instantly recognized this one through the profile of the man in the driver's seat.

_The Steinbeck family car._

Kenta looked around for a moment, wondering if he would be spotted meandering along the sidewalk from even a sizeable distance. Moreover, he wondered if Monika was actually inside, on her way home from school. He watched the car drive towards him at an average pace, and for a moment he imagined it slowing down to a halt next to him. Kenta did not know whether to run towards another street and avoid it, to keep walking as if he had not noticed the vehicle, or to stop and see what would happen. Before he could make his move, however, the car did start to slow down and drive closer to the sidewalk towards him as it drew nearer. Knowing that it was now pointless to avoid it, Kenta stood and waited until the car's passenger doors were perfectly lined up with him.

To his surprise, it was the front passenger-side window that rolled down to greet him instead of the back. He peered in and saw the old, fatherly face of the Steinbeck family driver, Mr. Fujita.

"Good afternoon, son," said the elderly man cordially. "Didn't expect to see you out here."

"I was just taking a walk around town, sir," said Kenta with a polite nod. He cast a fleeting glance at the back seat. "I-Is Monika with you?"

Mr. Fujita shook his head. "Right after I picked her up at school, she asked me if she could come over to your house."

Kenta stared at the driver wordlessly for a few moments, feeling his heart skip a beat. He inched closer to the car, wondering if he had misheard. "A-At my house . . . ?"

"Yes," said Mr. Fujita. "Your mother had mentioned that you were out, but Miss Monika decided that she would wait for you. She sent me ahead so that I can run a few errands while she's there, so here I am. Do you need a ride back to your place? I can drop you off real quick."

"Oh, there's no need for that, sir!" said Kenta hastily. "My house is just five minutes away on foot. I'll just rush on home pronto!"

"Are you sure?" asked Mr. Fujita.

"Hundred percent," replied Kenta with a grin. "Thanks for the offer, though. And for, y'know, telling me and all."

"It was nothing. Take care, Mr. Yamaguchi," said Mr. Fujita with a smile.

Kenta waited until the black car drove further down the street and rounded a street corner in the direction of downtown. When he had made sure that the coast was clear, he broke into a run towards his house. His thoughts rose with his heartbeat as he bolted, careful to slow down at corners lest he run into an unwary passerby. All throughout, his mind raced alongside him.

_She actually showed up at my house. And she's met Mom. Why did it have to be today? Maybe Daisuke or Naoki put her up to this. No, that's wrong. She must've planned this. Dammit, should've taken a bath before I left._

When he had arrived, he quickly sprinted across the front yard and nearly barreled through the front door with his tall frame. As if she had heard the commotion he was making, his mother came running to meet him as soon as he entered.

"There you are!" she said as he skidded to a halt in front of her. "We've been trying to text and call you! Why didn't you tell me you'd be having a visitor come over?"

"I left my . . . my phone here." Kenta leaned against a wall, panting. "And no, Mom, I didn't . . . even know that she was gonna come over. W-Where is . . . Where is she?"

"She's in the kitchen," said his mother, beckoning him to follow her down the hallway. "I've made some tea for us three. Come on, don't keep her waiting!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," said Kenta, taking in deep nourishing breaths to stabilize his heartbeat.

In the kitchen, Monika was seated at the dining table, looking around idly as she held a cup of tea in her hands. Nothing much seemed to have changed in her appearance; she still looked immaculate to Kenta, bearing no signs of stress from school or anything else. She glanced around when the two of them entered, and she beamed when she spotted him.

"Hello, Kenta," she said warmly.

"H-Hey there, Monika," said Kenta, smiling nervously back as his mother took a seat some distance away from Monika. "W-What brings you here?"

"I just wanted to see how you're doing," Monika replied. "I texted you a few times beforehand to tell you that I was going to come over, but you weren't replying all day."

"Ah, well, I was taking care of a few chores earlier, so I w-wasn't exactly looking at my phone," said Kenta, scratching his head in embarrassment. "And then I went out for a short walk, and like I told Mom over here, I didn't bring my phone with me even then. . ."

"I see. That's okay, I understand," said Monika lightly.

"Why don't you sit down?" his mother chimed in. "You look out of place just standing there, you know?"

"Oh! Er, yes, o-of course," Kenta coughed, quickly ambling towards the table to sit down in the chair adjacent to Monika's. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his mother watching the two of them shrewdly, and he did not need to guess that hard to know exactly she might be thinking.

"Monika here told me that you were classmates back in freshman year," his mother went on once she was seated alongside them.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," said Kenta with a nod. "That was the only time that we were classmates. Anyway, how are you?" he asked, turning to Monika in an effort to dictate the conversation and prevent his mother from asking anything too sudden.

"Still the same," Monika admitted with a sigh. "We have the school festival preparations to thank for a shortage in schoolwork, but the debate club's still going at it with the practice for nationals."

Kenta nodded as he listened. "Then that means I didn't miss much at school, huh?"

"I don't know what your other professors have been up to, but I don't think you missed out on anything important while you . . . while you were gone," Monika replied, changing her words and leaving out the obvious. "I've asked Naoki about that, and he told me just as much."

"Well, that's good, I guess," said Kenta. "Maybe I'll just ask him later about the lessons I missed and read up on them."

A short silence fell after their exchange. Kenta eyed Monika with fleeting glances, knowing that he had a lot more things to ask or tell her right now, but his mother's presence was proving to be a daunting obstacle indeed. For years she had been there with Kanae to interrogate him about his prospective crushes at school, but not once in living memory did any girl stop by at their house for a visit. Kenta knew that this moment would be a favorite dinner subject for the rest of the week, at the very least.

"What did you say your surname was again, young lady?" his mother asked Monika. "Sein . . . Stein . . . ?"

"Steinbeck, ma'am," Monika replied. "My father is from Germany. He moved here for work and met my mother, and the rest is history as they say."

"That sounds rather nice," said Kenta's mother. "Is he a businessman of some sort?"

"A general contractor, same as my mother."

"Oh, really? My husband worked once for a contractor, before he moved to Okinawa. Your parents must have a noticeable presence in the city, then?"

"Yes, although they're mostly in other prefectures taking care of work, and they're looking to settle down in a fixed place to make things easier. It won't be long until they . . . rather, until _we_ move to Osaka."

As she spoke, Monika eyed Kenta fleetingly. Kenta looked away, not wanting to see something in her eyes that would make him remember her future exodus. It was for naught, however, when his mother piped up.

"So you _are _the girl Kenta mentioned before."

_Here we go._

Monika showed no hint of surprise as she smiled. "What did he say?"

"Nothing much." Kenta saw his mother cast an amused glance at him. "Just that there was this friend of his that would be moving out in the future, and he seemed pretty sad about it too. I had already guessed that he was talking about a girl, and I had a feeling that you were that girl the moment you showed up."

Kenta let out a resigned sigh. "Yes, Mom. She's that girl," he admitted.

"The same girl that you were saving up your allowance for?" his mother added.

". . . Yes," Kenta hissed, his face turning red. He glanced over at Monika, who looked to be holding back a laugh as she took a sip of tea.

"There's nothing wrong with that," his mother went on, raising her hands. "Your father did the same when he courted me back in college."

Kenta grunted gruffly. "T-To be honest, she's also the one who, um . . ."

"Who what?" his mother asked.

"The one who . . . w-who helped me with . . . m-my studies back then. . ."

His mother raised her eyebrows in surprise. She turned to Monika and asked, "Did you really?"

Monika smiled modestly. "Let's just say that I saw his dilemma and gave him a little push, ma'am."

His mother let out a surprised titter. "Well, you fared better than I did, that's for sure. Never could get through to my boy all throughout middle school, and then suddenly he just asks for help from his cousin Kazuto over in the next town and starts going on this steady academic streak during his freshman year! I'll admit, he wasn't scoring straight A's, but it was a welcome change nonetheless. I thought for a while if he was just doing it all for a girl—not to be rude or anything, of course—but he never really said anything about it all. Anyway, regardless of his reasons, I welcomed his progress with open arms."

"Well, a source of inspiration and help isn't bad, but Kenta deserves the credit for that streak," said Monika, eyeing Kenta cordially and prompting him to turn crimson. "He took my advice in stride and kept gunning for improvement, and he managed to be his own tutor in no time at all."

"To be fair, when he started studying on his own, I thought he was possessed or something," his mother jested.

"_Mom,_" Kenta hissed as Monika laughed.

"It's rather regretful that we never became classmates again, hmm?" she asked him. "The class lists grow more and more random every year, so it's hard to stick with the people we used to have classes with."

"Exactly," said Kenta. "Sometimes the guys and I think that those class lists are rigged at the start of every school year."

Monika giggled again. "We may never know."

As the minutes ticked away into half an hour, their conversations turned to more casual topics, much to Kenta's relief. His mother, vigilant but also polite, asked what questions she could about Monika—her life as a model student and as the president of the debate club, her parents' work in the other prefectures, and whether or not some of her mother's relatives were people that the Yamaguchi family knew. Though Kenta was worried that she would find the questions too wearisome, Monika was all but cordial as she replied and asked a few questions of her own. Kenta noticed how the conversation never once touched upon the subject of his fight at school or his suspension, and he was silently thankful that the two of them kept it that way.

Some ways into their talk, Kenta heard the doorbell ring. His mother, who was busy making more tea, turned around to answer the door, but he forestalled her. "I'll get it," he told her.

"If it's Mrs. Saionji, tell her I'll be right over!" his mother called out as he left the dining area.

"Yeah, yeah," Kenta replied just as he reached the front door. He opened it wide, expecting to see his mother's friend or at least someone else, but he stopped when he saw who the visitor exactly was.

From his perspective, the first thing that came to his mind was that the woman in front of him seemed to be the spitting image of Monika. She wore a black pencil dress topped by a matching blazer, with jewelry glinting at her throat and wrists and a pair of high heels allowing her to surpass Kenta in height. Her brown hair fell past her shoulders elegantly, reminding him of the time he had seen Monika with her hair down at her place. Her face was even shaped like Monika's, only more lined around the eyes and near the lips to give hints about her age. _Even her eyes are the same._

It did not take too much for Kenta to guess who this woman was, though he wanted to make sure nonetheless. "C-Can I help you?" he asked.

"I'm looking for my daughter," the woman replied in a formal tone. "I've been told that she went here."

Kenta shifted his glance slightly to see the Steinbeck family car parked right beside the gate to their house. That was all the confirmation he needed. "Yes, she's inside right now, ma'am," he said politely.

The woman nodded. "Would you be kind enough to call her over right now?"

Before Kenta could say or do anything, however, he heard a rush of footsteps behind him. He turned around to see Monika jogging down the hallway to the front door, stopping in her tracks as soon as she saw the two of them.

"Mom," she uttered.

"Mr. Fujita told me that he dropped you off here," said the woman to her.

"I just took a look at my phone and I saw your texts," said Monika, walking forward to stand beside Kenta. "I thought you were still at the city hall."

"Things went a bit quicker than I expected, so here I am." She gave Kenta the faintest of smiles. "I suppose _he's _the friend that you went here to visit?" she asked Monika.

"Oh, y-yes," said Monika, giving Kenta a warmer grin. "Kenta, this is my mother, Fujiko Steinbeck. Mom, this is Kenta Yamaguchi."

Kenta inclined his head civilly. "Pleasedta— I mean, pleased to meet you, ma'am."

"Charmed," said Mrs. Steinbeck in reply, reminding him of Takeo Kimura for a moment. From the way she looked at him, Kenta wondered if she recognized him in some way.

"So are you done with your visit?" she asked, turning her gaze back to Monika. "Your father wishes to take us out for dinner after he finishes meeting with his client. If you come home with me now, we'd be able to prepare."

_She sounds like someone's rich boss_, Kenta noted as he and Monika exchanged fleeting glances.

"Kenta? Who's at the door?"

Looking behind him, Kenta saw his mother walking down the hallway, wiping her hands on the front of her dress. Just like Monika, she stopped short when she saw Mrs. Steinbeck, and Kenta saw how the two of them seemed worlds apart in terms of appearance.

"Um, who are you?" his mother asked, eyeing Mrs. Steinbeck from head to toe as if she was a celebrity.

Monika replied for her. "Ah, Mrs. Yamaguchi, this is my mother."

"Oh, so you're Mrs. Steinberg!" Kenta moved aside as his mother sauntered forward, sighing to himself as she got the surname wrong. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I suppose. Would you like to come in? I just prepared a fresh pot of tea!"

"No, but I do thank you for the offer," said Mrs. Steinbeck, giving her the same small smile that she had given Kenta earlier. She turned back to Monika. "So are you ready to go?"

"Oh, are you leaving already?" asked Kenta's mother.

"I'm afraid so," Mrs. Steinbeck replied. Monika, however, still looked unsure.

"Maybe I can stay for a bit longer and hail a cab instead?" she suggested. "I won't take too long."

Her mother regarded her for a moment. "We wouldn't want to keep your father waiting, though," she said curtly.

Monika hesitated. "Well, I don't know. . ." she muttered.

Kenta watched the dialogue unfolding before him, looking for what was hidden beneath the polite words and the formal looks between mother and daughter. He was starting to sense that Mrs. Steinbeck wasn't feeling too open with the idea of Monika visiting him like this on her own accord. His own mother, meanwhile, sensing a sort of tension brewing, excused herself promptly from their presence and returned to the kitchen. Monika, on the other hand, was obviously hesitating out of a desire to stay around longer and talk to him, and that made him feel both grateful and guilty at the same time. After what had transpired during the past week, it was more than he deserved.

"It's alright, Monika. Y-You can go."

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Monika looked at him, surprised. "Are you sure, Kenta?" she asked.

_Am I? _All Kenta managed to do, however, was to give a reassuring grin that belied his own uncertainty. "Y-Yeah. I mean, like your mom said, it's better if you don't keep your dad waiting," he replied. "Besides, it's not like we're not gonna see each other again. I mean, I'll be back at school tomorrow, right?" he added, attempting to add a bit more confidence in his voice.

For a few moments, Monika stared deep into his opal eyes, her emerald gaze tinged with regret, as if she was trying to apologize for her mother's sudden arrival. Nonetheless, she smiled back, evidently intending to drive away any suspicion from her mother.

"I suppose you're right," she said. "I'll see you at school, then."

* * *

Monika kept quiet as their family car drove down the street, feeling her mother's appraising gaze upon her. She had kept her waiting for a bit longer as she exchanged some final pleasantries with Mrs. Yamaguchi, and it had been difficult concealing her disappointment afterwards, feeling resentful at the fact that she had been picked up too early especially since she had not managed to talk to Kenta that much. When she had heard from his friends about how he was keeping his distance out of guilt, and when she saw that he wasn't replying to a lot of her texts in the way he used to, she had decided to pay him a visit to both comfort him and assuage her worries. In a way, her efforts worked; Kenta seemed to feel better even though she was made to leave early, and that reassured her about his return to school.

As their car entered downtown, her mother spoke up beside her. "You're being awfully quiet."

Monika sighed. "I just wanted to stay for a little longer, but it's fine," she said without looking at her.

"There's always tomorrow. Or next time," her mother pointed out.

"Yeah, maybe."

Silence fell for a few moments. "That red-headed boy, he's your admirer, yes?"

Monika glanced around at her mother. The question seemed imposing enough, but her mother's face was so impassive that it hardly seemed like a matter that would concern her. Then again, she mused, her mother was often selective of what kind of things she would concern herself with.

"Yes, Kenta and I are seeing each other," Monika admitted, deciding to go with the truth.

Her mother nodded. "Takeo said as much."

Monika gaped at her in surprise. "Takeo told you about Kenta?" she asked.

"Yes, back when they had dinner with us at home," her mother replied. "You had already gone upstairs by then, if I remember."

Monika paused, wondering what kind of things Takeo might have mentioned to her parents about Kenta. She knew that he would have undoubtedly heard about Kenta's fight and his consequential suspension, and while he had not said anything about it, she could sense how satisfied and even vindicated the vice president felt. He tackled their debate club practices with more vigor than before, and his mood had lightened to a point where he was less strict about his stance towards the other club members.

"Why didn't you tell us about him before?" her mother went on.

Her words brought Monika out of her thoughts. "Well, if you had asked me about it, I would've told you and Dad."

"Does that mean if we didn't ask or tell you, you wouldn't tell us?"

"Mom, when did you and Dad ever ask me about things normally?" Monika shot back.

For a moment, it looked as if her double-edged tone knocked her mother off of her impassive stance; she looked at her with a slight frown. "What?" she asked.

"Instead of asking me about school or my friends, you asked Takeo. And all of a sudden you're telling me that I should've talked more to you and Dad? It's starting to bug me, you know that? It's either you talk to me just to hear yourself talk, or because you want to tell me something that you've decided on without asking me first."

Her mother regarded her intently. "If you're feeling indignant that I made you go home early—"

"No, Mom, it's not that. It's . . ." _A lot of things_, Monika knew. Yet somehow, she felt cautious about continuing, as if this was not the time or place for her to argue. _Though if not now, then when?_

Her mother used her moment's worth of hesitation to speak up. "If this is about you going to Osaka for college, we can discuss that in the future. But personally, I see nothing wrong with it. We're moving out, after all, and college can be a tricky affair to tackle on your own. You're lucky that you'll be with us for it all."

_You didn't even ask me about what I think. _Monika felt her sadness and frustration well up in her, mixing into a heavy payload that made her heart sag. She wondered if her mother was consciously ignoring her side on things or if she was simply unmindful. Monika wanted to believe that it was the latter case, but it was hard to trust on such a notion given how long things have been going on like this. Not for the first time, she wondered if there was any difference between speaking to her mother through a cellphone call twice in a month and actually having her around without the chance to truly speak to her about how she felt and what she was going through.

Monika turned towards her mother, ready to keep arguing, but she stopped short when she caught sight of Mr. Fujita looking at her from the rearview mirror. It was a fleeting look—one drawn by the unavoidable sounds of an impending argument, no doubt—but Monika glimpsed a look of concern in the old man's eyes before he averted his gaze.

". . . Never mind," she said quietly, scooting further to the side and focusing her gaze instead upon the towering buildings that flanked the street. Seemingly taking her withdrawal as a form of surrender, her mother said nothing else.

Ten minutes later, their family car rolled through their house's front gates. One of their maids rushed out to meet them as Mr. Fujita pulled up near the front door, ready to attend to her mother as soon as she got out of the car. Monika exited the vehicle more sluggishly. Her mood dampened as she watched her mother walk into the house as if nothing had happened during the car ride, with the maid hurrying after her. Sighing, she turned to look at their house's front garden, wanting to find a bit of comfort in the sight of the flowers and trees everywhere.

"Miss Monika? Are you okay?"

Monika turned around to see Mr. Fujita watching her from inside the car, looking concerned once again. A twinge of embarrassment and guilt tugged at her as she knew that he had heard everything on their way home. Had their driver been someone else, Monika would have felt less awkward about what happened, but Mr. Fujita had been their family's driver for sixteen years, and she treated him and his wife as cordial friends.

"I do apologize as well for listening in while you and your mother were, ah . . . talking," the old man went on, bowing his head politely.

She gave the old driver a smile. "It's okay, Mr. Fujita. I'm alright. And I'm sorry that you had to hear . . . all that earlier."

"I understand," said Mr. Fujita, smiling back. "It's just remarkable to be reminded about how quickly you've grown up. I'm certain that your parents feel the same."

"Maybe. And if they don't, maybe I can just argue with them a bit more to remind them about it, right?" said Monika ruefully.

Mr. Fujita chuckled. "I wouldn't say 'argue.' Just . . . don't be afraid of letting them know what you think and how you feel. I'm sure that even if they don't show it, they listen to what you have to say. You are their daughter, after all."

Monika sighed inwardly. "I hope that's true. Thank you, Mr. Fujita. I appreciate that."

With that, Mr. Fujita bowed his head once again. He rolled up the car's windows and went down the driveway to park in front of the garage. Monika watched him go in silence, feeling more open to facing dinner with her parents on a better note. She wondered if her mother would talk to her father about what she had told her earlier, and whether she would feel relieved or saddened if she did not.


	47. Chapter 47 - Closure

**CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN – CLOSURE (NatSuke)**

The blinds on the windows of the _Matsuda Eatery_ had been lowered, sending the message to passersby and would-be customers that the diner was closed for the day. Even so, as he glanced around their empty diner, waiting for his mother and sister to come back from the kitchen bearing the food for their luncheon, Daisuke wondered whether the presence of a few customers would have made the atmosphere more awkward or not. His father's arrival weeks ago had caused quite a stir, but that was nothing compared to the tension of his presence now. Daisuke had glanced curiously a few times at the woman at his father's side, marveling at how the years have made her seem different from the woman he had seen once when his parents were finalizing their divorce. His father was talking to her softly, and Daisuke could feel a hint of coldness in her eyes, as if she wanted to be someplace else other than here.

His sister Hiroko seemed to feel that as well, as she had nothing but glares for Chizuko Kanemaru. Their mother had been immensely relieved and thrilled when Hiroko had approached her two nights ago and told her that she would be there for their father's last visit, but it was obvious that her contempt at their father's new wife still lingered. Daisuke had expected his father to bring his children along—two boys, a two-year-old and a six-month-old, based on what he had heard from his mother—but the sight of his half-brothers would be undoubtedly difficult to digest for both him and Hiroko, even if their innocent presence would make arguments more difficult to start.

The sound of footsteps made Daisuke look up from where he sat. He saw his father approaching him with a smile. "Are you okay?" he inquired.

"Yeah," Daisuke lied, though not out of contempt; he seriously had no idea what to feel right now apart from awkwardness, even if it was different from the frustration he had felt four years ago. "Mom said that she and Hiroko will be fine in the kitchen. Why don't you and . . . a-and . . ."

He cleared his throat, not knowing what to call his father's wife. "W-Why don't you two sit down?" he finished clumsily.

"One moment," said his father. He turned to Chizuko and nodded towards the table, signaling her to come with him. For a moment, the woman looked as if she would turn away and leave them be, but instead she let out a soft sigh and walked timidly forward. Only when she was finally seated on his right did his father sit down at the table, right across from where Hiroko would be seated.

Daisuke was dreading the moment when he would be compelled to think of something to talk about with his father when the door to the kitchen opened. His mother came in, wearing a modest white dress beneath her apron, carrying a bowl carefully. She laid it down at the table, glancing at everyone with a polite smile, but she said nothing as she made her way back to the kitchen. Daisuke looked and saw that his mother had chosen to cook beef curry as one of their main fares, and the sight and smell of it made his stomach growl in spite of the awkward atmosphere. Hiroko was still nowhere to be seen, but Daisuke could hear her moving around in the kitchen amid the sound of pots, pans and bowls clinking and clanking. She would come out alongside their mother when the last plate or utensil was set down, Daisuke knew, to take her place at the table and draw less attention compared to coming out of the kitchen last.

More dishes were soon laid out—stir-fried vegetables with tofu, fish fillets and scallions steeped in oyster sauce, miso pork, and even a small platter of spiced chicken gyoza. Daisuke remembered how his father loved eating gyoza when he was still with them, and he wondered if it was a good choice on his mother's part to cook them for today. Perhaps she had done so to make their father feel more comfortable with some familiar food, but it also added a touch of melancholy as it brought back memories of what used to be.

True enough, Hiroko exited the kitchen with his mother not long afterwards, bearing the rest of what they would be needing—spare bowls, some cups for tea, and an extra bowl of rice. She took her seat quickly without sparing a glance at Chizuko or their father, her posture more rigid than Daisuke had ever seen.

As they begun eating, Daisuke let his mind wander back to what Natsuki had told him when he asked her opinion on what could happen on this visit. Though she joked about Hiroko lacing their father's food with laxatives or upending the table in a fit of rage in her attempt to lighten the discussion up, Natsuki had a grim gleam in her eyes when she spoke to him. Daisuke wondered if that was because the matter involved fathers who messed up with their families- which was an experience that she could undoubtedly relate to—or if Natsuki was feeling worried for him and what he could feel during the visit.

"To be fair, I don't see any reason why your dad would wanna argue on this last visit," Natsuki had told him. "I can tell that he's serious about apologizing, at least. And the fact that he's bringing his new wife along—really brave of him, I'll give him that, but it'll surely tick your sister off. If I were you, I'd make sure to let your mom or even your dad start the discussion instead of Hiroko—less chance of her dictating the talk and starting an argument. It'd be better if you can coordinate with your mom about this so that she can help you. If your dad apologizes again to you three, just hear him out and say what you need to say—or what he wants to hear."

"'Say what he wants to hear?' Wouldn't that be a bit too insincere?" Daisuke had asked. "I mean, Mom wants this wrap-up to be good, and lying doesn't seem like the best option for that."

"Well, yeah, but it'd be hard to forgive your dad on the spot. This wrap-up is already four years in the making, but your sister's still steaming from it. She won't let go that easily. Just . . . Just advise her to suck it up and be done with it once and for all." At this, Natsuki had let out a guilty sigh. "I'm sorry if that sounds too blunt. I'm not used to giving advice for serious stuff like this."

"No, no, it's alright. Your opinions will help me think of a few things as well. Thank you, Natsuki." Looking back, however, Daisuke wondered if what he would say and do would make much of a difference if things started going south.

Surprisingly, lunch seemed to pass by peacefully enough. Much of the credit for that went to their mother, who dictated the conversations with questions about work and moving out, or about old friends and relatives. Their father replied and talked easily enough, and he would often direct a question towards Chizuko to let her in the conversation. Chizuko was polite enough to reply when prompted, but it was during the moments when she spoke that Daisuke could feel resentment emanating almost palpably from Hiroko, who was eating in complete silence next to him. Still, the fact that she had not directed even a single side comment out of disdain at their father's expense seemed to be proof enough that she was fulfilling her duty not to start a verbal war. Though no hostility permeated the atmosphere visibly, however, things were far from being jovial. Eager to keep everything civil, Daisuke joined in the conversations as well, though he directed most of his replies and questions to his mother at first.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, their mother stood up to begin clearing the table. Their father smiled as he finished his cup of tea. "That was all delicious. Thank you for the meal, Etsuko."

"I'm glad the food was to your liking," their mother replied, smiling back as she balanced bowls and plates on top of each other.

"Ah, please, let me help you there, Etsuko," said Chizuko, standing up and gathering what spare plates and utensils were left on the table.

"Oh, there's no need for that, Chizuko!" said their mother. "Hiroko and I can manage!"

"No, it's okay," said Chizuko with a timid bow. "Many hands make light work, after all."

At that, his mother turned to stare at him helplessly. Daisuke nodded, wordlessly telling her to let Chizuko carry on. To the right, he caught a glimpse of Hiroko looking rather grim, and he wondered just how much she wanted to spit out a snide remark then and there. Nonetheless, his sister seemed to think the better of it as she carried her own batch of dirty dishes to the kitchen. Chizuko and their mother followed not long after, leaving Daisuke alone with his father.

Trusting that their mother would be able to rein in anything that Hiroko might say or do in the kitchen, Daisuke turned to face his father. "So, Kyushu, eh?" he said. "Definitely not close by."

His father nodded. "Work offered me a good deal, couldn't pass it up. Plus, Chizuko always wanted to go and see Fukuoka. Some of her relatives live close by over there."

"I see." Daisuke remembered Osaka for a moment, and whether or not Kenta was doing better or worse since his return to school. "Is there any chance you might come back here in Kanto?"

"I can't say," his father replied with a sigh. "Things are looking pretty permanent for us at Kyushu. Might take several years before we go someplace else, even to visit."

"Well, I know that you're not visiting us anymore after this, let's get that straight," said Daisuke.

A short silence fell. Daisuke glanced at his father again, digesting the words that he had just uttered to him. As much as he felt that there was nothing out of the ordinary about their luncheon, the fact that this was his father's last visit was starting to make him remember the past. He remembered the resentment and sorrow he had felt then, and how odd it was that he had stopped himself from ever voicing his pain in the way Hiroko had done.

At that moment, the silence was suddenly pierced as the kitchen door opened. Hiroko strode in, looking sullen. Straightaway, Daisuke sensed that something untoward had taken place in the kitchen, but there had been no raised voices or other noises to alert him of such. Next to him, his father sat up straighter, seemingly worried as well of anything unfortunate that might have happened.

"What's wrong?" Daisuke asked his sister.

Hiroko waved her hand dismissively. "Mom just decided that she'd do just fine in the kitchen, and that wo— I mean, _Chizuko_ said that she'd be fine helping her with the dishes. Didn't wanna start anything, so . . . yeah."

With an effort, Daisuke kept himself from heaving an obvious sigh of relief. "Well, why don't you join us in here for a while, then?" he offered.

Hiroko stared directly in his eyes, and he could only imagine the unspoken message they gave him: _No chance in hell. _But he matched her stare, compelling her to remember what they had talked about before regarding the visit. Though he guessed that Hiroko would tell him off later for trying to force her to stay with him and their father, he felt adamant about not letting her end the day on a sour note.

Sighing, Hiroko bowed her head and made her way to the table in a huff, sitting down on the same chair where she sat earlier. Their father, who seemed to have been struck dumb during their brief exchange, relaxed his stance in his own chair, not looking at either of them. For a moment, Daisuke wondered if he had just made things worse in his desire to keep everything under control. The silence between the three of them stretched further, magnifying the awkwardness a hundred times over.

Daisuke decided to push on. "So . . ." He turned towards his father, clearing his throat to stay composed. "Is there anything you wanna say to . . . to Hiroko?"

The two of them turned their heads at him, startled. "W-What do you mean by that, Dai?" Hiroko asked him.

Daisuke sighed. Many times before, he had seen such a scenario unfold in the manga books he had read and loved; the protagonist, faced by a looming personal argument of epic proportions, decides to take the direct approach and nudge the people involved into opening up about what they wanted—and needed—to talk about. While such an approach often produced meaningful results for the book's plot, it could easily backfire and implode in real life.

_It's worth a shot. If things go south . . . well, at least this is the last visit._

"Look, we all know that it was bound to come sooner or later—the part of your visit where we talk, I mean," Daisuke went on. "If we're gonna get on with the rest of the afternoon, we may as well start being serious and honest. The more we pretend and put it off, the higher the tension will get, and by the time we start talking, it's gonna be mostly arguing."

Their father looked discomfited. "But you know that I'm not . . . I mean, arguing, that's . . ." he stammered.

Daisuke cut across him with a serious look. "You told me before that you wanted to talk to Hiroko, right?" he asked. "During your last visit, you said as much. Well, if this really is your last visit . . . now's the best time to do it. If Mom and Chizuko come around, they can join us."

Glancing at Hiroko, their father looked older beyond his years. There was a mixture of resignation and shame warring on his face, like with Chizuko earlier.

"It's alright if Hiroko doesn't—" he began, but the sound of a chair scraping against the floor made him stop; Hiroko had sat up straighter, her head bowed slightly.

"Dai's right," she muttered stiffly. "If you're gonna say something, go ahead. We're doing this right here, right now."

Daisuke knew that his sister's tone brooked no promises that she would not flare up and start throwing things, but to her credit, Hiroko was quick to forestall such musings. "I'm not going to shout or pick a fight or anything. I'll try to hear you out, but I'll definitely say stuff in between, so . . . be ready."

She raised her head, staring straight into their father's eyes. Looking at her as well, Daisuke wondered what was behind her gaze. Defiance? Acceptance? Or a little of both and some other emotion, most likely? Either way, it made Hiroko appear very different from the laid-back, playful sister that he had always known. It somehow saddened him to know just how much the issue still affected her, and he respected her greatly for helping their mother move on and being open enough to talk to their father now. _For Mom, _he remembered telling her.

_For Mom, _she had echoed.

At that moment, the sound of footsteps made the three of them look around. The door to the kitchen was open, and there stood Chizuko. With her hands clasped in front of her in an expression of silent politeness, she reminded Daisuke briefly of Yuri Hoshino. Chizuko took a few short steps forward. Her poise was composed but rigid, and her voice had a somber edge to it when she spoke again.

"Pardon me for barging in like this, but . . . I've always wanted to try and speak to you two, since I n-never got the chance before. If you would permit me . . . I'd like to take the time to do so now, alongside M-Masaru."

Daisuke gaped at her. He had expected Chizuko to simply sit or stand by in complete silence once the family matters were brought up, especially given her casual and distant demeanor throughout their luncheon. This time however, she looked contrite, sorrowful even.

Before anyone could speak following her words, Daisuke saw his mother hurry out of the kitchen behind Chizuko. "Is everything alright?" she asked, looking worried.

Their father stood up. "Everything's alright," he said in a would-be calm tone. "We've just . . . We were just talking, and Chizuko was, er . . ."

His voice faltered as he fumbled with what to say, but surprisingly, Hiroko came to his aid. "Dad wanted to talk to me—to us," she said. "I guess we should've waited for you two as well. Sorry about that. . ."

Daisuke stared at his sister for a moment, digesting the fact that she had just called her father "Dad" again. Chizuko stood by silently, but she gave Hiroko a small, grateful smile nonetheless. Their mother paused for a moment before smiling as well.

"I'll go make some more tea," she said.

* * *

Ten minutes into the conversation between the five of them, Daisuke knew that the tension in the air was at an all-time high, but there were thankfully no hints of hostility this time around. Like him, Hiroko was prepared to take in whatever their father and Chizuko would say, and though she still appeared more serious than ever, her initial upset demeanor was replaced by dismal silence. Their mother sat next to her, patting her arm comfortingly every once in a while, though she also looked rather subdued as she listened alongside the two of them. And who could blame her? To bring a final measure of closure before their father's departure would require an uncomfortable trip down memory lane, and pain and sadness were always involved when old hurts were revisited.

For those who had done the hurting, Daisuke knew it was bound to be even more torturous, and their father certainly showed that as he spoke lugubriously.

"I know I must've tried to talk to you three like this before, so I'm truly thankful for today. Accepting us here before Chizuko and I leave the city . . . that's a luxury I didn't count on getting from any of you, and we appreciate that. Especially from you, Hiroko. You're the only person here whom I haven't talked to directly yet since . . . since everything happened. If you'd let me, I'd like to apologize for the final time."

"Why don't you start by saying what went wrong along the way?" Hiroko asked silently. "I know that explaining will make it sound like an excuse, but I want to hear it. What was it, Dad?"

"Problems, and a man who didn't know how to handle them properly," their father admitted. "Problems at the office, with your grandparents, with every little thing in between that made me and your mother quarrel whenever I got home from work on a bad day. Looking back at it all, it's really pathetic. Fathers are supposed to be strong for their families, but I was too weak."

"No, you weren't," Hiroko shot back. Her silent but bitter tone made their mother place her hand on her arm again. "You were too strong, too proud to admit that you had problems that you needed to sort out without fighting with Mom. She was always ready to help you, ready to discuss what needed discussing, and yet you felt like you could handle it all by yourself."

That made their father fall silent for a few seconds. As if she could smell blood, Hiroko went on. "Tell me I'm wrong. That's what happened, right? You kept it all in. You felt like you were being heroic and strong by not sharing your problems with Mom, but you started to crack from all the pressure. Sure, you didn't want Dai and me to see you two just fighting all the time, but you thought that the only answer that you had was to keep quiet and let things grow worse in the meantime. When it became too hot for you to handle, well . . ."

Though his sister kept her voice at a civil tone, Daisuke could feel just how deeply her words stung, and he wondered how terrible it must be for their father to hear all this and not being able to defend himself from it. After all, as harsh as it sounded, it was the truth, and the shame that crept in on their father's face was all the affirmation they needed. Their mother looked steeped in resigned sorrow, still caressing Hiroko's arm.

This time, it was Chizuko who spoke. Her voice trembled, and her beautiful features looked pale. "I'm to blame for that, I'll admit. Masaru was one of my good friends at the office, and to see him bounce between being stressed out or depressed, it definitely c-caught my attention. I wanted to help him out, but . . ." She turned away, her hands clasped tightly together over the table, and went on a different track. "I shouldn't have interfered in the f-first place. It wasn't my b-business to do so."

"No, it was only natural that you'd want to help, Chizuko," their mother stated. "The past few years have let me think about all this over and over again, and I had my shortcomings too. I wasn't there for Masaru often, and I asked for too much when I forced things on him. We were struggling when I started with this diner, and I wanted his full support to help see us through. It was too much to demand, though, with the kids still studying and . . . and other things happening in between."

"We could've tried," Hiroko interrupted. "We could've at least waited to see if we all made it together with each other's help, right?"

"No, things might have gotten worse, and the diner wouldn't have taken off as well as it did eventually," said their mother. "Your grandparents would've been breathing down your father's neck at every turn, and it would've added more problems. I think the time off that we got, being away from each other . . . I guess that's what helped everyone sort things out."

Chizuko shook her head. "I still shouldn't have let it escalate the way it did. Masaru was married to you, and I was seeing someone when it all took place. I should've just offered him advice and been done with it, but when I had p-problems of my own, Masaru was there, and . . . No, I shouldn't talk about that right now. Shameful, all shameful. . ."

"It might be shameful to some, but I think it's understandable if you devote enough time to understanding everything that happened. At the very least, I'm glad that Masaru had someone to be with after it all." As their mother said those words, a wistful smile crossed her face. "When it all boiled down, I knew that things were over for the two of us, but I wanted to part with him civilly. I wanted him to be able to move on and eventually find happiness. It was hard at first to accept that, but I couldn't stay bitter for the rest of my life—I mean, how will Hiroko and Daisuke cope with that, right? And now you've got kids of your own, too. When I'd heard about it, that's when I realized that I couldn't possibly keep spiting you even if I wanted to, and so I sent Masaru that letter."

Her words were followed by a somber silence. Looking back at the past with the rest of them, Daisuke remembered thinking back then if their father had chosen Chizuko simply because he was sick and tired of the quarrels he had with their mother, but he knew now that that wasn't the case. It was simply because his father had found solace in someone else, someone that helped him stay afloat even as he was sinking from the weight of his insecurities about being strong enough on his own. Chizuko had meant well, that much was true, even if the emotions that ran high at the time created a bond between her and their father that ultimately split their family apart. And even if his parents still loved one another then, what their mother had said was true enough—that it would have possibly caused more harm than good if they tried to mend things without giving each other enough space, and it was fate that caused their father and Chizuko to grow closer in the meantime. And the rest, as the saying goes, was history.

"Dad."

Everyone turned to look at him, no doubt surprised by his sudden use of such a word to address his father like Hiroko had done earlier. Knowing that the time had passed for hesitation, Daisuke plunged onward. "If it's okay . . . I wanna say something, too. It might be too serious or something, but I think now's the best time to say it." _And the only time_, he added inwardly.

"Go ahead, Dai," said his sister.

Daisuke gave her a grateful smile before turning back to his father. "Dad, during your last visit, I don't think we managed to talk properly to each other. I mean, we did, but you were the one who did most of the talking, right? Since then, I've been giving some thought about what I should be saying the next time we see each other, and I guess . . . I guess I've figured it out.

"I won't deny that I hated you for a while after what happened," he went on, "and I wondered too if the woman you ended up with was just someone who wanted to take you away from us. Begging your pardon, ma'am," he added, bowing politely towards Chizuko. "For a long time, I had only two images of you in my mind—the father I grew up with, and the man who left our family. It was really tough to think that those two persons in my head are one and the same, but as time passed, I knew it was the truth that I . . . that _we _were stuck with, and we could choose to either live with it, or keep having it ruining our lives for years to come. I guess Mom chose the previous option, judging by that letter she sent you, the one you mentioned. After all, it won't make any sense if we kept on clinging to the past. Of course, we won't be able to deny that what happened hurt us more than we all would've expected, but it would be worse if we didn't choose to accept it. Besides, I think we can all relate to the mistakes we made, along with the lessons we learned."

He paused, waiting to see if anyone would agree or disagree with his words. When no one spoke, he pressed on. "It won't be the same. That much we can already tell. There were days when we'd think about what could have been, what we could have done, stuff like that, and I'm sure days like that can come again in the future. We'll think about how hard it was and still is, and we'd keep blaming each other. But I think it's better if we focus on what will be. That's what got all of us going, right? I mean, it sure worked for Hiroko when she helped Mom," he added with a nod towards Hiroko.

"I'm not saying all this to make you feel like we're ignoring your apologies, Dad," he said. "I just want to repeat what I told you during your previous visit, and what Mom told you in that letter she gave you—that we've all moved on one way or another, and we owe it to ourselves to keep doing that. Besides . . . the future isn't something you can ignore, not when you already . . . already have other kids." Not wanting to make that sound like a bad thing, Daisuke smiled and added, "I'm sure you two will do your best to help them grow up. Don't worry about the three of us, okay? We'll be fine."

Chizuko sat up straighter when he turned to her next. "Ma'am, I know we haven't talked that much before," he told her, "but I just want to thank you for coming with Dad today and joining us. I know that my words might not mean much, but . . . I hope that you'll be able to help him continue his new life with you and your kids."

The smile that Chizuko gave him eased the somber glow on her features. "I really appreciate that, Daisuke," she said. "T-Thank you."

A short silence followed their brief exchange. Daisuke wondered for a moment if he had said everything that needed saying, and somehow he knew there was still something else that could be said. Before he could continue with that, though, Hiroko spoke up to his left.

"I guess Dai's right," she stated with a sigh. "If there's a good time to start burying the hatchet—and letting it stay buried—today would be it. I think the only reason I haven't been able to let go was because . . . there were still a lot of things that I didn't get to say."

Emulating Daisuke, she turned to face their father with a serious, determined glare. "To be honest with you, Dad, I always thought about how our family would've ended up if everything didn't happen the way they did. Every time I'd meet with my friends and I hear them talking about their parents, I'd always be jealous. And I'm sure Dai has gone through things like that during the rest of middle school, too. All those things, they just made everything really hard to deal with, and the fact that you weren't there to even see it made it all worse. Losing you made the diner really hard to take care of, hard enough to postpone me from going to college and make me start looking for jobs to help with the payments and to help keep Dai in school. And all the while, I hated your guts. It's like if we were having it rough, I wanted you to have it rough as well. I didn't wanna think that you were off somewhere being happy about what you did while we were suffering.

"Still, Dai was right. We did make it with each other's help. And it made me happy to see Mom staying strong, and him growing up just fine. The diner was doing well after some elbow grease and a lot of tiring nights. I got a secure job, and the bills are getting paid on time. And for a while I thought that things would stay like that, but then you showed up again, and everything just . . . came crashing down. Seeing you back here, it brought back a lot of unpleasant memories. I remembered the time when Mom cried, and when we were still struggling to make ends meet for the diner. I remembered Dai keeping quiet all the time, and I wondered if he was doing alright at school after what happened. I remembered what you did, Dad, and when I went with Mom when she was settling your divorce, and all the money we spent and all those times when I wanted to just shout or cry even in front of your lawyers and all those other people. That just brought back the hate all over again, and all the questions too. Like if you really were sorry, if you really wanted to talk to us, then why do it now when you're gonna be leaving town? Why didn't you try for the past four years, right? I figured that you wanted to talk to us again just because you wanted to feel better about yourself before you left for good. Maybe you even stopped by to make us feel what we lost, to just shove it in our faces all over again.

"But listening to Dai speak, listening to you and Chizuko . . . it gave me time to think some more about why you couldn't do that, and I think I . . . I understand it better now. When I saw how hard it was for you and Chizuko to also bounce back, as much as I hated to admit it, it made me realize that you two aren't just a couple of heartless monsters. You're both human beings who made mistakes and regretted them dearly for a long time, and it's that regret that held you back in a way. It wasn't that you didn't try at all, or you didn't want to try. Not only is the shame still there, but I also I closed the door on you four years ago, when I told you that you shouldn't ever dare to talk to any of us ever again. And now, just before you're moving away for good, you decided to go for broke because like Dai said, it'd be the last time you'll ever get the chance, even if I won't give it to you, because you really wanted to cap off things for better or for worse. It's pretty crappy to think that those four years were wasted partly because of me.

"When Mom sent you that letter a couple of years back, I didn't want her to get through with it. Instead I wanted her to invite you over so that you can talk to her face to face. If that pushed through, however . . . I think it would've been nothing but war." Hiroko looked away for a moment, her face still utterly grave. "I knew I wanted closure, but I guess I should've known beforehand that it'd be a two-way street, and not an all-out rage fest. No matter how much I'd shout or throw stuff, nothing will change. And I don't think I can make your . . . your kids feel bad for what happened, no matter how angry I could get."

She looked back towards their father, her eyes shining with resolution. "Whatever happens from now on, wherever we may all end up . . . consider the hatchet buried. Don't worry about us anymore. Don't let us hold you back from living your lives and raising kids any longer. Let's just keep moving and looking forward. We didn't end up where we wanted to be the first time, but the people with us along the way, they'll help make everything easier to handle. As clichéd as it sounds, that's what family is all about."

As Hiroko finished speaking, Daisuke could not have felt prouder or more grateful for his sister. The tone of her voice made it evident that she was having difficulty in saying such things openly, but the fact that she had soldiered through it with both honesty and acceptance was better than any other expected outcome. Hiroko cast her gaze down, as if she was embarrassed of what she had just said, but their mother patted her on the shoulder reassuringly and whispered a few words in her ear. Daisuke did not hear what she said, but judging from the smile that crossed his sister's face, he knew that they were words of reassurance and gratitude, similar to what Chizuko and their father wanted—no, _needed _to hear.

That was evident enough as well when Chizuko started speaking up. Her voice shook as she fought back the emotions that were evident on her countenance. "It had been hard for us to try and t-talk to you about . . . about everything. So for you to say all that, you and your brother . . . t-thank you. It means so much to us."

Hiroko smiled at her, and Daisuke saw that her lips trembled for a moment as she opened her mouth to reply, but her words were cut short as their father rose all of a sudden. All eyes fell upon him, though it was hard to guess the emotions that were warring on his face. Again, such a ponderous expression seemed to make him grow older in Daisuke's eyes, as if his feelings were taking a concrete toll upon him.

Wordlessly, their father walked over to where Hiroko and their mother sat and knelt slowly next to them. Hiroko looked startled for a moment, but she understood as she locked gazes with their father. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Hiroko." Like Chizuko's, his voice was hoarse with emotion.

Hiroko looked at him for a few moments longer before she bowed her head. In lieu of a reply, she reached out and pulled him gently into an embrace—the first embrace they had ever shared in the last four years, Daisuke knew. Next to them, their mother dabbed at her tears at the corner of her eyes with the hem of her apron. It was a sight that put Daisuke's heart at ease, and for a moment, everything was right in the world.

* * *

"To be honest, I expected your sister to pull off that laxative move."

"I was expecting that too, to be fair. Mom would've freaked out big time, though."

Back in the privacy of his room later that day, Daisuke had taken the time to narrate everything that had happened to Natsuki through a phone call. It was always a relief when she was left alone in the house while her father was out drinking with his friends—after all, it was the only time apart from being at school when she was safe from his wrath, and though he missed the sight of Natsuki's cute text emojis, hearing her voice was always a good tradeoff.

After the surprising moment that had transpired in their conversation with their father earlier, things continued without even the slightest hint of a quarrel or a somber return visit to memory lane. Instead, talk turned to questions about more casual topics, such as their father's children by Chizuko—whose names were revealed to be Hirotoki and Hirotomo—and about Hiroko's line of work. Soon, it shifted to questions about the diner, and then to the happenings at Koizumi Academy and Daisuke's standing as a student. It was the sort of talk that had been held back at the luncheon earlier, when the veil of conflicts four years' worth had still been hanging over them. Now, with the veil having been lifted, there were no more restrictions on cordiality, and Daisuke recounted everything for Natsuki, eager to let her know how much of a success things had been, revisiting all of it in his mind with a healthy measure of happiness salted with a touch of melancholy at the departure. What touched him the most, however, were his father's parting words.

_You've been the man of the house for four years now, Daisuke. Take care of your mother and sister, alright? But also, don't forget to enjoy life with them and your friends. Thank you for giving us this chance. No matter what happens, I'll always be proud of you._

Simple words, but full of weight, to be sure, and Daisuke somehow felt sorry that his father could not say anything more. "Do you think they're gonna stop by to visit if they ever end up in Kanto again?" he asked Natsuki.

"Well, going by your convo, I think so," Natsuki replied. "I'm actually really surprised that you guys took all of this so well. Like, your mom's super nice and all to forgive and forget that easily."

"I wouldn't call it easily forgetting, but yeah, she's nice enough to let bygones be bygones. I couldn't say the same for Hiroko at first, though."

"Yeah, your sister's the biggest surprise of the day. And your dad's new wife, I expected her to be like this stuck-up little b— I mean, w-well, I just didn't think that she'd be pretty open in talking to you guys. Maybe that's one of the reasons your sister didn't wanna be ticked off all the while."

A short silence fell. Daisuke pondered for a moment whether he had missed on telling Natsuki anything, but she spoke up before he could say anything more. "I'm happy for you guys. Like really, I'm glad that you managed to put this particular hiccup behind you. If I'm gonna be honest, I was worried that you'd be really stressed out by it all, and . . ."

"And?"

When the silence prevailed over the other end of the call, Daisuke sighed. Now that the hard part of the day was over, it was time to address certain things that had been cast aside. "To be fair, I was also having second thoughts about sharing everything with you like this. . ." he said silently.

Thankfully, Natsuki spoke up again upon hearing his words. "Huh? What d'you mean?"

"It . . . It kinda feels guilty for me," Daisuke replied. "When we were talking about happier stuff, when everything had started turning out good, there were times when I imagined how . . . how hard it was on your end. Here we are, finally solving this problem we've had with our dad for a long time now, while you're—"

"No, stop."

This time, Daisuke was the one who seemed to be struck dumb. "W-What is it?" he managed after a few silent seconds.

"I know w-what you're trying to say, so don't say it, p-please." The way Natsuki stammered made Daisuke's heart ache all of a sudden. "Don't let my home situation make you think that you shouldn't be happy with how well your family's doing right now. I have it really bad over here, I can't deny that, but that doesn't mean the misery should infect everyone else around me. I don't w-want that, okay? Like I said, I'm happy for you, and knowing that you're happy as well, that makes me feel better."

Daisuke sighed again. That Natsuki would pick up on his thoughts and feelings quickly signified that she had also been mulling on such things for a while now, perhaps even long before she had given him advice on what to do during his father's visit. Natsuki did not say much nor open up any questions about such matters, but Daisuke always imagined sensing her thoughts whenever the two of them talked. Every time he did, he would imagine just how heavy the weight was on Natsuki's small shoulders, and whether the healing bruise next to her eye would soon be joined by a fresher one.

As if to distract from such a somber turn in the phone call, Natsuki changed tack. "A-Anyway, do you have any other p-plans for the festival?" she asked.

"Oh, n-not a lot," said Daisuke, feeling privately grateful for her control over their conversation. "I did manage to finish the banners my classmates needed for the booths, so unless they've got other stuff that they want me to draw and design, I'm home free."

"I see. Well, I've just been thinking. . ."

Daisuke took note of the slight nervousness in Natsuki's tone now. "What is it?"

On the other end, Natsuki let out a sigh. "I've been thinking about something for the past couple of days. I wanted to just tell you through text, but I figured that it'd take too long."

"Oh. Do you wanna tell me about it now or . . . ?"

Again, silence fell. Daisuke imagined Natsuki doing some very serious thinking on her side of the call. Although his curiosity was definitely piqued, he knew better than to try and coaxing things out of her right now, so he waited patiently.

"Ugh, I don't think I can say it," Natsuki grumbled after a while. "Is it fine if I just tell you on Monday?"

"Oh, sure thing!" said Daisuke. "Lunchtime, as usual?"

"Yeah, if I don't run into Yuri again," said Natsuki. "N-Not that I don't wanna run into her, of course! I just . . . I don't know if I can talk to one of you and make the other feel left out. M-Maybe if she can bring your friend along, she won't feel left out while we talk."

"Do you two still run into each other often?"

"Not for the past couple of days. I ran into her at the corridor one time, and she actually ignored me. I mean, I know I'm small, but I'm not _that _small to go unnoticed, right? But then again, Yuri did seem like she was out of it. She looked . . . I dunno, pale?" At that, Natsuki's tone grew a bit worried. "Hey, do you think she's not eating properly? I mean, I know I'm an e-expert when it comes to feeling hungry."

"I don't know about that. Naoki doesn't tell us much about her nowadays," Daisuke admitted. "Are you worried about her?"

Natsuki inhaled sharply. "S-So what if I am? I mean, I know Yuri's not as . . . open as some people you'd meet, but she's still a nice girl to be around with. I can totally see why Naoki likes her. I just hope she's . . . she's f-fine, that's all. . ."

As much as he wanted to crack a lighthearted joke or two about Natsuki's concern, Daisuke knew that his arm would pay the price if he did. "Well, let's just see if we run into her and Naoki again soon. If not, there's always the festival," he said lightly.

"Yeah, the f-festival. . ." Natsuki's voice trailed off a bit as she spoke. Daisuke waited for a moment, wondering if she would say anything else, but Natsuki merely continued without a single mention of what she had wanted to say for the rest of their conversation. He smiled and let it be. After all, there was always Monday to look forward to as well as the other days to come. And even though some days were heavier than most, what happened today proved that there is always closure and relief to be had for even the most burdened hearts.


	48. Chapter 48 - Bake It Happen

**CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT – BAKE IT HAPPEN (NatSuke)**

As she watched the cupcakes bake in the oven heat, Natsuki wondered what exactly she was getting herself into.

The idea had come to her gradually for the past week or so, starting out small and then slowly growing until it began to nudge at her whenever she was not distracted by other things. Daisuke had planted the thought in her head, but given that he had never brought it up again—out of respect for her, she knew—Natsuki felt that she was the one who chose to keep giving life to the thought. It had been a long time since she last baked for a festival at school, and she had done so anonymously with a teacher's help then. This time, things felt different, as if she was sure that she would be figured out as a baker for the whole world to see at last.

Though she had already voiced her decision not to do anything for the festival, let alone attend it, Natsuki felt that she would be letting Daisuke down if she chose to go down that road. She knew that Daisuke merely wanted her to enjoy herself, a welcome change from the ominous environment she had at home and her most recent mishap at her father's hands, and she saw nothing wrong with that. She had wanted to tell him about it when he called to inform her of how successful his father's last visit had been, but Natsuki felt that she would fare better with the personal approach she had chosen to take. However, the things that she had told Daisuke echoed in her mind throughout the entire baking process—the thought of being ridiculed for her efforts and cupcakes, the risk of being laughed at for the next few years or so, even the mere idea of being called "cute" simply because she knew how to bake and design colorful pastries.

Moreover, should she choose to do the unthinkable and actually bake for the festival, how on earth was she going to deal with her father now that he was on a higher alert for anything she might do? Buying the ingredients wouldn't be a problem once Daisuke managed to obtain their classmates' help, but her father would likely ignore the fact that everything had been paid for and simply assume that she had pocketed money in secret. As for _where_ to bake, Natsuki knew that she could always go to her Aunt Shoko's place for that, but it might be too much to ask for now that her aunt and uncle were starting to feel some strain from helping their household while her father remained jobless. No matter where she looked, Natsuki saw only obstacles that threatened to make her change her mind.

A ringing sound startled her for a moment; the oven had finished its work. Natsuki quickly put on her pink oven mitts and took them out. She was grateful that her father was out at the moment—meeting another woman at the bars downtown for a future encounter, no doubt. At any rate, his absence had given her time to bake three simple chocolate cupcakes, the ingredients funded by some extra money her Aunt Shoko had kindly given her. It was risky, but then again three cupcakes were easier to make and hide compared to dozens of them, and doing things quickly was something of a necessary lesson that one needed to learn when living in the dreary Fujisawa household.

_Three_, Natsuki thought as she stared at the cupcakes on the table where she had placed their tray. She had baked one for herself to taste for the reassurance that her handiwork wasn't as bad as she was expecting it to be. Daisuke, who would be giving her his full support, would get the second cupcake; while his opinion was definitely valued, Natsuki could not help but expect him to be slightly biased in her favor regardless of whether the cupcake was good or not. That was where the third cupcake came in, for a third person who would offer their own impartial judgment and help her decide once and for all if she would indeed bake for the school festival.

Though she could still change her opinion, Natsuki knew that Yuri was the second-best choice after Daisuke. She had gotten to know her a bit better than her other schoolmates, but not to the point where her opinion would be swayed by their acquaintanceship. Monika and Sayori were viable options as well, but Natsuki felt rather intimidated by the high standards that a beautiful and smart girl like Monika would undoubtedly have, while Sayori was a lesser-known acquaintance compared to Yuri. And Daisuke's friends, while all cordial and open, made her feel more embarrassed rather than encouraged. At least with Yuri, whom she had been talking to a few times before, whom she had bonded with on a surprisingly profound scale, Natsuki felt that she was making a safe and decent choice.

In the next ten minutes, Natsuki managed to decorate the cupcakes with some simple vanilla icing topped with chocolate chips, the quickest and simplest type of confectionary design that she could make given the limited amount of time she had. She had wanted to make some colored, flavored icing to make the cupcakes even more scrumptious, but the lack of time and the risk of being discovered by her father had made her settle for simplicity. Once she was done, the cupcakes would go into a spare Tupperware container that she would hide in the darkest corner of her closet, to be smuggled into school the next day.

Natsuki sighed to herself as she sprinkled chocolate chips onto the last cupcake. The verdict that awaited her tomorrow was indeed important, but she couldn't help feeling that by doing a test bake she had already made up her mind in a way.

* * *

To Natsuki's sudden dread, Yuri wasn't alone the next day.

Waiting for Daisuke at the rooftop, she had discovered that Naoki was sitting with Yuri as she ate from a small lunchbox, talking to her in a low voice. Even from a distance, Natsuki could see how serious Naoki looked, but that was nothing compared to how Yuri was; her face was pale and clammy, as if she would pass out or vomit at any moment. Initially, Natsuki had guessed that starvation was the culprit for Yuri's recent state, familiar as she was with the onset of hunger and its toll on the body. She had voiced such concerns to Daisuke before; though Yuri was a relatively casual acquaintance compared to him, Natsuki did not want her or anyone else going through the same pangs that she was enduring almost every day. Still, Yuri was actually eating, and Natsuki couldn't help but guess that there was something else bothering her.

She looked down at the Tupperware box she was carrying, wondering if she should get on with her plan. Naoki would obviously be left out, and there was also the more obvious problem of letting him find out about her baking. Naturally, there was no way for Natsuki to demand him to leave so that Daisuke and Yuri can taste-test the cupcakes, but it seemed equally rude to leave him without one. In the end, Natsuki knew that she would have to give up her cupcake in order to come to a satisfactory compromise.

Breathing deeply behind her face mask to calm her nerves, she stepped out from behind the wall she had been hiding behind and made her way towards the silent couple. Naoki and Yuri looked up when she was just a few feet away from them.

"Oh, hello there, Natsuki!" said Naoki in greeting, his seriousness punctuated momentarily by a warm smile.

"H-Hey," Natsuki greeted back with a nod. "I hope I didn't . . . y'know, interrupt you two or anything."

"Oh no, it's f-fine," Yuri stammered, putting down her lunch box and sitting up straighter. Her own smile didn't reach her eyes, as if she was too tired to even grin properly. "D-Do you want to sit with us, or . . . ?"

"Is that okay with you two?" asked Natsuki.

"Of course!" said Naoki, who quickly made room where they sat. "Is Daisuke gonna be arriving as well?"

"Yeah, we were gonna talk about . . . about something, and I'm just waiting for him," Natsuki replied. She eyed the two of them, imagining that they were actually hoping that she would leave so that they could continue talking. "Maybe I should just find another place to sit. I don't wanna interrupt you two."

"No, it's f-fine, Natsuki," said Yuri. "We appreciate the company, but w-we also don't want you to feel left out, though. I mean . . ."

Natsuki understood. "You two just carry on talking, alright? I'll just wait for Daisuke right here."

With that, she sat down some distance away from Naoki, who glanced at Yuri for a moment. Natsuki did not mind them as she set down the Tupperware box to her right, directing her own gaze pointedly away from the two of them so that they could continue their conversation. True enough, after a few more moments of silence, Yuri and Naoki continued talking in low voices. Natsuki fiddled with her hands, trying not to eavesdrop and wishing that she had brought along a copy of her manga to keep her occupied in the meantime.

Daisuke arrived around five minutes later, carrying two cans of orange soda with him. Natsuki raised her hand and waved at him until she caught his eye, and he jogged towards them.

"Hello there, folks!" he said genially as he approached. "Looks like we've got quite a nice little setup here."

"Quite," said Naoki, grinning as the two of them bumped fists. Daisuke grinned at Natsuki for a moment, but he paused when he glanced at Yuri, evidently surprised by the bushed look on her face.

"Everything alright, Yuri?" he asked.

"I'm fine, t-thank you for asking," said Yuri with the same feeble smile she had given Natsuki.

"That's good to hear," said Daisuke, sitting down with them. Natsuki quickly hid the Tupperware box behind her, feeling her heartbeat rise as the situation started to reveal itself to her. Though her plan was simple in essence, her own resolve had begun to waver now that Daisuke was present, and Naoki's presence was also taking its toll. _This was a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn't have baked. Maybe I should've done this some other time. _And yet Natsuki knew that in spite of her current thoughts, she had assured Daisuke that she would be telling him of her plans today. While she hadn't made it a solemn promise in any way, it still bothered her to go back on her personal word.

"So, Natsuki," said Daisuke, holding out a can of orange soda at her, "what is it that you wanted to tell me?"

Natsuki took the can from him, grateful that her face mask hid the flush on her cheeks. She swallowed anxiously. "W-Well, it's . . ."

Unable to speak straight, she glanced at Naoki and Yuri once again. After Daisuke's arrival, the two of them seemed to have forestalled their conversation, indirectly causing all eyes and ears in the group to fall upon her. Natsuki bit her lip, cursing inwardly at how fate was making fun of her at the moment.

"Yes?" said Daisuke expectantly as he opened his own can of soda and took a sip from it.

Naoki spoke up then. "Do you guys need some space?" he said concernedly. "Yuri and I can go somewhere else if that's—"

"No, no, it's fine!" said Natsuki hastily. "Just . . . J-Just give me a moment."

Knowing that there was nowhere to run or fall back to, she reached behind her and picked up the Tupperware box gingerly, the feel of the plastic beneath her fingers giving her a sense of stability. Naoki followed her movements with his steel-grey eyes, looking slightly puzzled, while Yuri kept looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety on her face. Their gazes made Natsuki feel so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet she had gone too far to turn back now. She sat up ramrod straight and laid the Tupperware box on her lap, making sure to cover the sides with her hands so as not to let its contents fall into view and give things away easily.

She closed her eyes in grim resignation, her breath hissing through her nostrils. As she opened the box, the sound of the lid being lifted echoed in her ears like the world being torn asunder. When she smelled the faint aroma of chocolate in front of her, it was the true point of no return.

Yuri's voice was the first to puncture the silence. "C-Cupcakes?" she asked timidly.

Against her will, Natsuki opened her eyes to survey the aftermath of her reveal. Both Yuri and Naoki were staring at the cupcakes with matching expressions of mild interest. She focused on them intently, not wanting to even glance at what Daisuke's reaction might be.

"Did you buy those, Natsuki?" Naoki asked. "They look like those cupcakes from that bakeshop my mother frequents downtown."

"Er, n-no," said Natsuki in reply. "They're actually . . ."

"Are they homemade?" Yuri suddenly inquired. Natsuki looked at her in a flash, startled by her question. Yuri, on the other hand, looked nervous again when she saw her eyes fixed on her.

"I apologize," she said in a timorous tone. "It's j-just a wild guess."

Natsuki sighed helplessly. "Y-Yeah, they're actually homemade." She paused for a moment, balling her hands into fists. "I . . . I made them."

In her mind's eye, as she uttered those words, she was expecting the two of them to freak out, to blurt out their surprise for the world to hear, to bombard her with questions then and there. However, the actual reactions were quite different from what her thoughts had cooked up. While the shock was there, it wasn't the same as the level Natsuki was expecting; Yuri was simply staring at her, her purple eyes widened in surprise, while Naoki shifted her gaze from her to the cupcakes, as if digesting what she had said.

But while their stares made Natsuki's anxiety rise, it was Daisuke's reaction that sent her heart into overdrive as she finally looked at him. The realization that had dawned on his face told her everything; it was only natural that Daisuke would recall the familiar sight of a Tupperware box coming from her, and she had no doubt that his intuition had picked up on things easily enough when he first saw the container. But though she had expected him to start yakking in excitement, Daisuke instead looked at her with a meaningful gleam in his amber eyes.

Naoki shifted forward. "I . . . I didn't know you baked, Natsuki."

"Yeah, well, it's not the kind of thing I share with a lot of people," Natsuki stated silently. "But this time, I figured I should do it since . . . well, I'm p-planning on . . . on baking for the f-festival."

Next to her, Daisuke sat up straighter, his soda forgotten in his hand all the while. Yuri's eyes went even wider, temporarily dispelling the tiredness on her face. "F-For the festival? You mean you're going to be s-selling cupcakes like these?" she asked.

Natsuki winced at the slight loudness of her voice, but thankfully no students looked around to stare at them talking. _Not yet, at any rate. _"Yeah. I mean . . . well, to be honest, Daisuke here's the one who wanted me to t-try."

"Wait, really?" Naoki asked, looking over at Daisuke. The latter grinned apologetically where he sat, casting a glance at Natsuki as if he was asking for her permission to start speaking. Natsuki glared back at him, as if wordlessly telling him, _Help me with this, you big dummy._

"Y-Yeah, I gave her the idea," Daisuke stammered, drawing back slightly against her stare. "I mean, if you've tasted those cupcakes, you'd know why. It's just that . . . er, I don't think I'm the one who should be saying all this," he admitted nervously.

Natsuki sighed. "My baking is not something everyone knows about," she finished for him, "and it's not s-something I do all the time. You know how it can be when people get wind of something you can do and they just bug you over and over about it."

"Ah, I suppose you're right about that. . ." said Yuri.

"But I've been giving it some thought a-and . . . well, it's worth a shot," Natsuki continued. "I don't have anything else to do for the festival, and I think it won't be that bad considering I've already baked for a previous festival. B-But before I decide for good, there's one thing I need to do."

She looked down at the cupcakes for a moment. _No turning back now. _With a sigh, she took out two of them and handed it over to Naoki and Yuri, who both looked astonished all over again.

"I need you to . . . t-to taste these for me," she muttered.

Naoki and Yuri glanced at each other as they took the cupcakes from her. Naoki peered curiously at his, as if he was examining a curious new object that he was seeing for the first time. Yuri, on the other hand, dipped a finger in the vanilla icing and licked at it. Her eyes lit up excitedly.

"That's rather delectable," she said.

"W-Well, don't just settle for the icing," said Natsuki, her anxiety starting to mount. "Taste them."

As Naoki and Yuri both took small bites from their cupcakes, Natsuki took out the last cupcake and handed it over to Daisuke. "F-For you," she said.

"Wait, do I really get one?" Daisuke asked, nonplussed.

"You'll get it all over your face if you don't take it right now," Natsuki hissed.

"Okay, okay," said Daisuke hastily, laughing. As he took the cupcake from her, he asked, "How about you?"

"As you can see, I made only three," Natsuki stated bluntly. "It's fine, anyway. I've tasted my own work before."

"Oh." Daisuke looked at his cupcake for a moment. Without waiting for her to say anything else, he broke it in half and handed a piece to Natsuki, who drew back in shock.

"W-Why the heck did you do that?!" she cried.

"It's only fair that you get to eat along with us," said Daisuke with a smile. "I mean, you're the one who made these, after all."

As heat rushed to her cheeks, Natsuki hesitated for a moment, painfully aware that Yuri and Naoki were listening to such tenderness as they ate their own cupcakes. With a sigh, she snatched the cupcake piece from Daisuke, turned around, and nibbled on it discreetly, careful not to let anyone spot the healing bruises beneath her face mask.

When they were done eating, Naoki was the first to speak up. "Yuri's right. The cupcakes are delicious, Natsuki. They may be homemade, but the quality's so spot-on that it'd be hard to guess that they were homemade in the first place."

Natsuki nodded, feeling both embarrassed and honored at the same time; with Naoki's articulate air, it felt like she was being praised by a professor about a certain school project. "T-Thanks, I guess. . ." she muttered.

"Told you," said Daisuke next to her. "And you ain't seen anything yet, believe me. With the right ingredients, there'll be cupcakes with other flavors and colors too. The decorations are really nice—lots of color, design variations, stuff like that. It'll definitely catch the eyes of visitors at the booths, don't you think?"

"Agreed. The others will love these," Naoki added. "Kenta scarfs down desserts like it's nobody's business."

"Hey, don't tell anyone else just yet, alright?" said Natsuki, feeling overwhelmed by their praise. "They'll find out soon enough at the festival. I just d-don't want a lot of questions being thrown my way, it might throw me off m-my game or something."

"'My game,' huh?" said Daisuke with a grin. "Sounds like you're really gonna get into this, Natsuki."

"I would get behind such a notion," Yuri joined in unexpectedly with a timid but hopeful tone. "Your cupcake was delectable. I mean, the icing was not too decadent, and the cake itself had both a fluffy and rich texture. R-Really, everything overall was not overdone like in some cafés I've visited before."

Natsuki stared for a moment, dumbfounded. She had not counted on a short but detailed response from Yuri, imagining that perhaps she had been inspired by the circulation of the conversation to start offering her own opinion. Still, like with Naoki, Yuri's praise made her feel mortified and pleased at the same time.

"A-Are you sure you liked it?" she asked her, as if her mind was trying to do a double-take to confirm.

"Y-Yes, of course," said Yuri, who looked slightly anxious all of a sudden. "I mean, it might sound like I'm p-patronizing you, but I don't think I can deny what I said. I'm not exactly an aficionado when it comes to pastries and such, but I wouldn't m-mind eating another of those at the festival."

Daisuke laughed. "See, Natsuki? You've already got two other people giving you the thumbs-up. Still think it's a bad idea?"

Natsuki sighed. Try as she might to look for anything negative about the feedback she had gotten, she was turning up nothing. She had imagined initially that Naoki and Yuri were simply saying what she wants to hear, but given that they obviously knew what they were saying and meant it, she felt that doubting their word was pointless. Unused to such praise and encouragement, she had never felt so validated, self-conscious and determined all at the same time.

"Alright, f-fine," she muttered. "Thanks for your opinions, you two. I really appreciate it. To be honest, I didn't expect it to go this way, but after hearing your takes on it all, I think it's safe to say that I've f-finally made up my mind." She paused for a moment, sighing. "I'm gonna bake."

"There we go!" Daisuke cried out happily.

"Glad to hear that," said Naoki, smiling. "We'll look forward to your cupcakes, then."

"Agreed," Yuri added. "I hope things w-will go well for you, Natsuki."

Natsuki nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate that. But there's one more thing," she went on, causing everyone to fall silent. She turned to look towards Daisuke, who looked puzzled for a moment. Naoki and Yuri sat up straight, anticipating whatever it was that she was about to say. Natsuki let the silence stretch for a moment, staring deeply into Daisuke's eyes.

"_You're _gonna be helping me," she told him.

As she watched the slow but steady flush setting in Daisuke's handsome face at her words, Natsuki wondered whose embarrassment was deeper between the two of them.

* * *

Staring outside the windows of their classroom idly, Daisuke mused on things in silence, not even listening much to their professor's discussion for the day. Against his initial expectations, he had managed to convince Natsuki to bake for the festival. This not only meant letting Natsuki have some fun and productivity for the festival instead of having her sit things out, but it also gave her a nice way to showcase once again her obvious talent for baking. Daisuke had not wanted to keep bugging her about it, wary as he was of Natsuki's tendency to lash out if annoyed, so it truly came as a surprise that she had partly made her decision on her own and baked some cupcakes to test the waters before her final say. He also knew that Natsuki's intention was to surprise him in a way, given by how she virtually let no clue slip as to why she had wanted to talk to him at lunchtime.

But amid his enthusiasm and delight, Daisuke also felt a bit of curiosity and even nervousness within him. He kept wondering if Natsuki was truly serious about what she had mentioned earlier, or if she merely wanted to catch him off guard in front of Naoki and Yuri as some sort of lighthearted payback for the way he kept indirectly making her feel discomfited. Then again, Natsuki was one of the bluntest people he knew, and if she said something, it didn't take much to feel if she really meant it. Daisuke glanced around at her, watching her listen to the class discussion. Privately, he wondered if the serious gleam in her eyes had anything to do with her harnessing what focus she needed for the coming days—and if she was expecting the same from him.

When class ended two hours later, Daisuke hung back as he packed away his things. Most of his other classmates and friends passed him by, ready to begin the evening's post-school leisure activities downtown. Natsuki, meanwhile, looked ready to go home until Daisuke walked up to her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

Natsuki turned around quickly, raising her eyebrows when she saw that it was him. "What?" she said.

"Can we talk outside for a bit?" he asked.

"A-About what?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Natsuki."

Natsuki let out a sigh. "Okay, come on."

Together, they left the classroom and joined the throng of other students who were exiting the school, walking down the corridor until they had found a side spot that was clear of any passing students that might overhear them. Only then did Daisuke speak up.

"So . . . about your plan," Daisuke began.

"Surprised?" asked Natsuki.

"You have no idea," said Daisuke with a chuckle. "But I think you know which part of your surprise got me the most."

Natsuki shifted her feet where she stood. "Yeah, I think I know."

Daisuke nodded. "So when do we start?"

Natsuki looked up at him, evidently surprised. "Wait, you're not . . . backing out or anything?"

"Well, I did say that I was gonna do it on my own if you didn't want to get on with it," Daisuke admitted, "but now that you've changed your mind, I'm determined to lend you my helping hand. It's just that . . ."

"J-Just what?"

"Well, I wouldn't wanna disappoint you, nor would I want to be a burden. Obviously, you know a whole lot more about baking than any person I know right now, so you're gonna be doing fine. As for me, on the other hand . . ."

"Oh, is _Parfait Girls _not giving you enough tips, or were you really just looking more at the girls instead of the baking?" Natsuki joked bluntly.

"Hey, you know it ain't like that," said Daisuke in a sheepish tone, "and it's not like I can learn the secrets of baking overnight even with a long series like _Parfait Girls_. All I'm saying is, if I'm really gonna be helping you out, I might need some pointers from you along the way."

Natsuki stared at him for a moment; Daisuke could tell that she wanted to keep ribbing him as he caught the makings of a smirk crinkling the corners of her eyes. "I guess you're right," she admitted. "The main reason I wanted you to help me was because the extra help will be really useful if I'm gonna be meeting a quota. Speaking of which, how many cupcakes do you think we'll need?"

"Well, how many did you bake in that one festival before?"

"I think that was . . . around sixty, if I remember correctly. It was just for our class and some visitors, so it wasn't really a whole lot."

"Wait, you baked sixty cupcakes on your own? That's really impressive, Natsuki."

"I had a lot of t-time to prepare for that, okay?" said Natsuki, embarrassed. "Anyway, I was thinking that if I baked up to sixty before, maybe a hundred would be enough this time. I think that'll be good for only a day at most, though. It might not be a good idea to leave them exposed any longer than that," she added. "They won't spoil or anything, but they might start drying out, or the icing might have its consistency affected. Maybe if we can, like, place them in some larger containers and store them somewhere cool, they'll last for a bit longer. . ."

Daisuke chuckled, prompting her to look again at him. "W-What are you laughing at?! Are you laughing at m-me?!" she snapped.

"No, it's not like that!" said Daisuke quickly, inching away in case Natsuki reached out to punch his arm. "I just thought it was nice to see how serious you are about this. This is what I meant when I said that you'd surely give everything your two-hundred percent if you try this out. Those cupcakes are gonna rock, I can already tell."

"Don't get too excited, this is gonna take a long while," Natsuki stated, her stance mellowing after her initial outburst. "We don't even have a place for the baking yet. I think it's obvious to say my house is the last place in the world where we can bake all those cupcakes. I think I can just ask for permission from my aunt to do the work at her place again, like I did before."

At that moment, a lightbulb clicked in Daisuke's head. "Or . . . we can go to my place instead."

Natsuki looked at him. "Your p-place?" she asked, aghast.

"Yep! We can totally use the oven in our diner for the baking, plus you'll be able to store the cupcakes in our pantry or fridge afterwards. On the day of the festival, you can just drop by there and help me take them to school. Plus, we can even ask Mom for help!"

Natsuki drew back as if horrified. "N-No! That'd be too much! I mean, I don't wanna bother your mom for help, and we might take up too much space if we—"

"No, no, it's fine," Daisuke reassured her. "The diner closes early during weekends, so we can start baking after closing time so that the kitchen's free for us to use. Two days ought to be enough to make all of those cupcakes, right?"

"W-Well, yeah, b-but . . ."

"Natsuki, it's fine," Daisuke repeated. "If we go to your aunt's place, you're gonna have to do a bit of explaining about who I am and why I'm with you. At our place, though, you're already a welcome visitor. Mom will be more than happy to let us work there, and I'm sure she'd wanna see you bake as well. Maybe Hiroko can also lend us a hand."

Natsuki said nothing. It was then that Daisuke realized how overwhelming this must all be for her, and how he might be scaring her off rather than encouraging her to get on with her plan. When Natsuki still kept silent, he decided to change tack slightly. "I'm sorry," he said, bowing his head. "That might've been too straightforward of me. I just—"

"No, it w-wasn't," said Natsuki all of a sudden. "I think it's a g-good idea."

Daisuke looked up at her. "Wait, it is?" he asked.

"Yeah," replied Natsuki. "I was just unsure about it because I didn't want to b-bother any more people than I needed to about this. I'm already asking for a lot when I told you that you were gonna be helping me, and I don't want to drag your mom and sister into it as well. And b-besides, I've baked alone all the time, so I'm used to having little to no help. N-Not that I don't want you to help me, of course! I just . . . I don't like asking for help because it makes me feel even weaker than I already feel, being alone at home and . . . y-you know."

Daisuke gazed upon her, not knowing what to say. Then again, there wasn't a lot that can be said, he knew. His eyes lingered upon her face mask; though the bruises behind them were certainly healing, the emotional scars they had left were a different matter. For him, it was precisely this thought that kept him going in his bid to make sure Natsuki was always fine.

"Anyway, it's not like I have an awful lot of time to make this happen, so yeah, I think w-we should go with your suggestion," Natsuki continued. "Let's just tell the officers if they can spare some money from the class funds for the ingredients, and we'll mark it down for this Saturday."

"Sure thing. I'll message them tonight, but we can ask them tomorrow as well," said Daisuke. "Also, do you think I should tell Mom in advance about our plans, just in case?"

Natsuki pondered for a moment. "Y-Yeah, I think you should. That way, she can tell us ahead of time if we'll be able to use your place."

"Don't worry about that. I'm sure she'll be fine with it," Daisuke assured her. In fact, there was a more pressing concern that they needed to address other than the venue and the ingredients, a concern that sat above the rest.

"How about . . . a-about . . . you know, your dad?" he asked. "Won't he be looking for you or s-something?"

Natsuki shook her head. "As long as he feels that I'm not spending any of his money, it's all good. Besides, he mostly goes out for the weekends to drink with his friends. As long as I show up earlier than he does, it's fine."

"Then we'd better make sure you get home early on Saturday," Daisuke mused.

"Hey, don't worry about me, okay?" Natsuki told him. "Right now, our biggest concern should be the cupcakes. And just to be clear, I'm gonna spell it out for you this early—all the actual baking and designing, that's gonna be me, alright? I'll call on your help when I need it, but I think you can just . . . I dunno, clean up and get me the stuff I need."

"Aww, does that mean I won't get to try out baking?" asked Daisuke.

"Well, like you said, you're still a beginner, and we can't risk any screw-ups," said Natsuki bluntly. "When I said you'd be helping me, I meant you'd be helping me with other stuff while I accomplish our main objective."

"But you can still teach me, right? I mean, baking looks like it's a lot of fun based on what I've seen in _Parfait Girls. _Tomo always enjoys baking with the girls, even if he always causes everyone to start bickering over him."

"Are you really sure you're not just getting into it for the girls?" Natsuki teased. "Maybe once you start learning some more, you're gonna be using those skills to impress the ladies out there, hmm?"

"It's not like that, alright?" Daisuke stated firmly with a sigh. "Jeez, you sound like Kenta sometimes. Besides, why would I look at other girls when I've already got you?"

That stopped Natsuki in her tracks. "You're s-saying that mushy stuff again, you big dummy!" she hissed.

"Hey, I'm not the one who started it, alright?" Daisuke shot back, laughing as he danced away from her reach before a fist can fly.

"I know, I know," Natsuki grumbled petulantly. "Anyway, we should go. They might shut us in the school if we stay here any longer."

Outside, most of the students had already exited the school, with only a few lingering around as they sat on the stone benches flanking the entrance. The rest of the city was starting to become steeped in the orange hue of autumn as the sun receded in the background, ready to usher in the early stages of the evening.

At the gates, Natsuki turned towards him. "I just realized. Who's gonna be buying the ingredients?" she inquired.

"Oh, I haven't thought about that," said Daisuke. "I think Friday's a good time to buy everything. I'll just take everything over to the diner so that you won't have to carry anything, and it'll all be safe and secure for Saturday. How's that?"

"Sounds like a plan," Natsuki mused. "I'll send you a complete list of all the ingredients tonight. Save it on your phone, alright?"

"Sure thing. If you need anything else, just tell me."

Natsuki shot him a look. "And maybe I'll . . . think about letting you help me bake," she went on lamely.

"Wait, really?" asked Daisuke, aghast.

"Did I stutter?" Natsuki hissed, her face turning pink again. "Just make sure you earn the opportunity, alright? I'm gonna risk a lot if I let you help me, so if you're gonna help me, make sure you don't muck anything up!"

Daisuke stared at her for a moment. It was often a wonder how Natsuki could bounce between saying one thing and then saying another only a short time later. Then again, that was how things had taken off between them, he knew.

He smiled. "I won't let you down," he said.

Natsuki eyed him beadily, her face still flushed. "I know y-you won't," she stammered back.


	49. Chapter 49 - Surprises

**CHAPTER FORTY-NINE – SURPRISES (SayoHiro)**

Noise from both people and objects alike prevailed in a vacant storage room on the third floor of Koizumi Academy. Given that one section of the school was still undergoing some final repairs after the fire that had occurred months ago, and once other classes started popping up with their own props and materials for the school festival, it was indeed a chance effort for a class to secure a spare room to store what they needed. After all, large cardboard cutouts, collapsible booths and banners took up quite a bit of space, especially when it involved a video game_-_themed scavenger race. In a matter of days, a devoted group of gamers from 3-B had managed to decorate the spare room with a colorful amalgamation of the various regions and denizens of Wildemount, the fantastical region where _Dungeon Delvers_ took place. A finished façade of the city of Ironmere stood close by the windows, its paint drying in the sun. A cardboard caricature of an ogre from the marshes of Easthallow was propped against a nearby shelf, its green skin being colored in with poster paint by two of Akihiro's classmates. To the left of the room's entrance was the panoramic cutout of the sand-swept city of Thardossi, with a team of three stenciling in some finer details with markers. Across them on the floor, a forest sprite of Springwyn was starting to take shape as a student cut out its drawing from an illustration board.

Akihiro worked alongside his classmates with gusto, painting and detailing some cutouts of weapons from the game that the race's participants will be using. It was not exactly the kind of work that he would like to do every day, but it was fun nonetheless. After all, there were very few moments when he was made to put his knowledge as a gamer to use, and evidently his fellow gamers in 3-B thought so as well. Apart from bringing sections of Wildemount to life, they had also worked on scripts and whatnot for the best immersion possible. Some of their classmates joined in if only to have something else to do to distract from more mundane tasks, while the rest worked on the other booths and attractions they had planned.

Looking back at the past few days, Akihiro felt glad that things were starting to look up for everyone. The somber mood brought by Kenta's suspension had been lifted somewhat when their fiery-haired friend returned to school yesterday, though Kenta was still rather hesitant to rejoin the quartet fully. He still chose to eat alone and wander off on his own during breaks. Akihiro could not blame him; he could only imagine what kind of whispers and stares Kenta must be dealing with from all those who had known or heard about his fight. Still, Kenta's mood had lightened up enough for him to start replying more openly to any of the quartet's texts, proven when he texted them about Monika's surprise visit to his house during his suspension; Naoki had been credited with giving Kenta's address to Monika after she had expressed her desire to visit him. Akihiro smiled to himself at that. With their combined efforts, he knew they would be able to get Kenta back in the groove just in time for the festival and hopefully their next get-together.

Things brightened even more as Akihiro remembered the most recent date he had with Sayori, though the joy came with a bit of longing as well. During that evening—and long after it—he had wanted nothing more than to stay with her, to go home with her, to keep her company while she slept, to brighten her day as soon as she woke up. He wanted to make sure that she was alright, to assure her that everything was fine on his end as long as she was doing well. As such, he treasured and savored every moment they had spent together that evening, not wanting to let it get swept under the rug as time passed.

The most vivid memory of that evening that kept coming back to Akihiro, however, was their short moment on the sidewalk. He did not even know if he had chosen to draw in closer to her on his own volition then—he only remembered it happening as if it was all in slow motion. He remembered the warmth of her skin brushing against his fingertips, the soft caress of her breath against his own face, the gleam in her cerulean eyes. And just like that, just when their faces were mere inches apart, they stopped.

_Why? _That was the question that Akihiro kept asking himself since then. He wondered if that tender instant had indeed only been stopped through only his own hesitation, or whether Sayori had been unsure about it as well. Then again, Sayori initiated everything when she couldn't help touching his face, prompting him to respond with touches of his own. Perhaps she knew what would have happened afterwards and decided that it was too forward? The gestures were nothing new—Akihiro remembered the other times that he had touched Sayori's face in such a manner, mostly to comfort her—but this time felt so . . . _different_.

"Hey, Akihiro? You there?"

Akihiro plopped back to earth in an instant, roused from his contemplative stupor by the voice of his classmate. He looked down and saw that in his pensiveness, he had started to paint carelessly on the cardboard battle axe he was working on, tracing grey paint over its drawn details instead of around them.

"Ah, nuts," he mumbled, setting down the paint brush. "Didn't realize I was spacing out already. Sorry about that."

"That's a first," said his classmate, who was painting an elvish blade across him. "You looked pretty out of it. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I was just thinking about something," Akihiro replied.

"Something, or _someone_?" asked another with a sly grin.

"You always say that when someone says they're thinking about something."

"Maybe someone's thinking about him instead."

"That happens when you sneeze, not when you space out, you idiot."

"Alright, alright, there's no need to fight," said Akihiro, cutting through their banter as he laughed. He stood up and stretched his arms before walking over to the door. "I'll just take a breather outside—maybe get a little snack from the vending machines as well."

"Hey, isn't anyone gonna ask if _we _need a break? My hands are killing me!"

"There's no teacher around to stop anyone from having a break. Go for it, man."

"Just get back in time, alright? There are still three more cutouts to take care of!"

As Akihiro closed the door behind him, the sounds of his friends' voices receded into silence. He stared around the corridor, as if to see if there was anyone else walking around at this time of day. Like him and his friends earlier, some students passed him by at some points, carrying some things like a painted banner or some drawing materials as they made their way to their respective rooms. Outside, the sky teased an onset of rain later in the day with greying clouds, with the wind caressing trees and buildings alike. Idly, Akihiro took his phone out of his pocket and sent Sayori a quick text as he walked.

"_gonna smell like paint all day_ :p _how's the work going over there, wat r u guys making_"

To his surprise, Sayori replied in a flash, proving that she might not be as busy as he first thought. Akihiro surmised that maybe she and her classmates had more time to laze around in between their work.

"_we're making banners_ :D _don't 4get 2 take a bath l8r ok? how r u guys doing?_"

"_pretty ok, tnx 4 asking. just going downstairs 2 get a snack b4 getting back 2 work_"

"_jealous_ :("

Akihiro stared at Sayori's reply as he reached the ground floor. Sayori often snuck out of classes under the pretense of going to the comfort rooms in order to nab a quick snack from the vending machines near the cafeteria—at times, she would even meet him outside their room after a quick text in order to borrow some coins.

From there, it was like clockwork, and Akihiro knew exactly what to do as he reached the vending machines.

* * *

Try as she might to walk more carefully, Sayori could not help but quicken her pace as she carried over the rest of the small paint cans her classmates needed at the other end of the classroom. Earlier, it had been the chairs and tables that she helped move along with a few of her classmates, and before that, the bales of cloth that would serve as their banners for the festival. They were taped to the walls now, ready to be colored in after their initial designs and outlines were traced in with markers. It was a busy day indeed, one of the relative few that punctuated classes as the festival drew nearer, and Sayori made it a point to help and contribute in any way she can. The surge of determination and inspiration within her was as refreshing as the joy she felt whenever she managed to participate in the preparations to the best of her abilities.

Unable to sit back and watch everyone else work, Monika also worked alongside her, even going so far as to sit on the floor with her and the rest of them, cutting out shapes from illustration boards and helping with the initial banner designs. Most of their classmates had wanted to do most of the work themselves, seemingly unwilling to let Monika dirty her hands with menial effort, but Monika had insisted that everything was fine with her, that coloring banners or drawing the designs would be more fun than simply thinking up what the others would be designing. Sayori admired her resolve to work in the same manner as everyone else, as used as she was to seeing Monika taking on more academic and formal tasks at school. Plus, it gave her a chance to talk to her in between their work about a number of things. In particular, Sayori listened in awe as Monika recounted her sudden visit to Kenta's house, and her mother's equally unexpected arrival there to pick her up.

"Your mom wasn't mad or anything, right?" she asked Monika as they mixed colors for the banners on the floor.

"Not really, just . . . I wouldn't even call it 'disappointed,' more like—I think she just didn't expect me to show up at Kenta's house, and it was the first time she saw him for herself," said Monika. "She didn't ask me a lot about him after that. I mean, we almost argued, so there's also that, but I guess she was focused on other things instead, so it got swept under the rug."

"I see. I just hope that no bad stuff happens this time around," said Sayori. "I mean, with Kenta being suspended and you almost quarreling with your mom . . . Not to mention the competition you've been training for."

"Yes, it's getting rough," said Monika with a sigh, mixing paint idly. "I mean, the practices haven't picked up their paces yet, but getting the newer members in debating shape for their own competitions next month, that's starting to grow heavy. I'm doing my best, but I haven't been able to focus for the past couple of days. I guess that little bit with my mom really affected me more than I expected."

"Can't you take a break for a while?"

"I would if I could. I mean, I want to see Kenta again and go out with him one of these days, but he still seems shy about getting back on track with me. As much as I'd want the two of us to be back to normal, I wouldn't want to force him if he's not ready. . ."

"But I think he is!" Sayori sat up straighter. "I definitely think he wants to be with you again, and he's just waiting for you to show that you want the same thing too. He's just having second thoughts because he doesn't want to bother you, or he thinks that you don't want to talk to him yet after he messed up. I mean, that's what makes me stop talking to Akihiro a lot of times before. . ."

She looked away for a moment, remembering those experiences only too well. But she also remembered the happier times when she would reconnect with Akihiro after distancing herself from him for a while. In particular, there was also the most recent date they had, and that moment on the sidewalk when the two of them seemed to almost . . . almost . . .

Monika opened her mouth to say something, but a classmate of theirs interrupted her attempt. "Hey, Sayori, you've got a visitor!" she called out in an amused tone.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Sayori looked around. "Visitor? Who'd—?"

Like Monika, however, her words were forestalled when she saw Akihiro's head peeking through the classroom door. He grinned as soon as he saw where she was. Feeling incredibly elated and surprised all of a sudden, Sayori scrambled up and ran towards him as her classmates grinned knowingly.

"W-What're you doing here?" she asked as she reached the door, skidding to a halt in front of Akihiro.

"Thought you could use a snack or two," said Akihiro lightly, holding out a wrapped cookie and a small bottle of chocolate milk, both familiar fares from the school's vending machines. Behind her, Sayori heard her friends whoop and cheer and giggle. She laughed alongside them, her face flushing.

"You know you d-didn't have to, dummy," she muttered, feeling her heart fluttering in her chest.

"Just take them already, Sayori!" exclaimed someone behind her, eliciting renewed cheers from the others.

Shaking her head in embarrassment, Sayori said, "Let's talk out there."

She pushed Akihiro further out in the corridor as she stepped outside the room and closed the door behind her. When the coast was clear, she pouted at him.

"Again with the surprises? And in front of my classmates, too!" she said, pinching his arm.

"Hey, I could tell that you wanted snacks, alright?" said Akihiro, handing the snacks over to her. Sayori was grateful that he didn't notice her hands trembling a little from excitement. "I wanted to invite you downstairs to eat with me by the cafeteria, but you might be busy."

"More like you wanted a grand entrance," Sayori said jokingly. "My friends are gonna have lots of fun teasing me after this."

"Seems like they know me pretty well, huh?" said Akihiro, laughing. "I guess I have you to thank for that."

"Hey, it's not my fault that I think about you when they talk about their b-boyfriends and stuff!" Sayori cried out. "And when they ask me to share, it'd be rude if I said no."

"I understand. But sometimes I just wonder what kind of things you share to them about me," said Akihiro, chuckling as he ruffled her hair. "Anyway, I'll talk to you later, okay? I need to get back soon before I'm missed."

"But you're already missed," said Sayori with a sad air.

"What d'you mean?"

". . . Missed by me."

Akihiro stared at her for a moment. A faint blush crept into his cheeks. "Jeez, Sayori . . ."

"I just wanted to make a pick-up line, okay?" Sayori muttered, pouting. "But no jokes this time, I really am gonna miss you as soon as you leave."

"You always make it sound like I'm going off to another country whenever I leave," said Akihiro. "We'll talk later, okay? We can go out too, if you want."

"W-We'll see," Sayori pointed out, feeling both excited and bashful at the thought of another date as she remembered their moment on the sidewalk. "Take care, okay? And don't forget about taking a bath when you get home! You were right about smelling like paint."

"With the work you guys are doing in there, _you'll _start smelling like paint soon enough," Akihiro jested. "Just try not to get some paint on your uniform, too. The toothpaste stains you get daily are enough."

"_Meanie!_" Sayori squealed, swatting with the bottle of chocolate milk and coming up a few inches short as Akihiro dodged, laughing.

Back inside the classroom, the teasing calls and jokes of her classmates rang anew as Sayori passed by them, renewing her mortification. Even Monika had a knowing smile on her beautiful face. "Care packages in the middle of a school day, hmm?" she told her. "Akihiro's definitely got you covered."

"I didn't put him up to this, okay?" said Sayori, her face turning pink again as she unwrapped the cookie.

Monika laughed. "Your secret's safe with me," she joked. "It's very sweet of Akihiro to do all this and more. Sometimes I wonder if Kenta would like to do something like that for me. I can't help but guess what he might do or think sometimes, and it just gives me butterflies in my stomach when I do," she added with a giggle.

"Maybe in the future, he can try it out," said Sayori, laughing with her. "I think it's safe to say that boys love surprising their girlfriends, so watch out for Kenta!"

"I will," said Monika lightly, but her mirth faded somewhat as she paused for a moment. "He's just sort of hesitant, I think. Hesitant because he feels that he might end up embarrassing me again in some way if he pulls off something. I mean, he's always like that, you know? Always concerned with how I'll feel."

"But isn't that a good thing, Moni?" Sayori inquired.

"Oh, it is, don't get me wrong," Monika clarified. "It's just . . . I don't want him to always think about how I'll react when he does something. He didn't do that a lot before—not to the level where he starts forgetting himself, I mean—but after the incident he had, I'm starting to think that it really affected his behavior in that regard. Maybe he's just scared of disappointing me all over again." Monika let out a sigh as she set down the paintbrush she was using. "I think part of the blame falls on me. Maybe I shouldn't have reacted too rashly when I got wind of the fight. I always think that I made him feel even worse than he was already feeling then."

"I see. . ." Sayori swallowed her last mouthful of cookie and patted Monika's arm. "It's okay, Moni. It's only natural that you wouldn't want to see Kenta getting himself in trouble. That's how it was with me and Akihiro, back when he used to put video games first before homework. And remember that incident with the tree? W-When you spotted the two of us together?"

"I remember," said Monika.

"Well, I scolded Akihiro for pulling off that climbing stunt and getting hurt in the first place," Sayori went on. "I didn't want to talk to him for a while, because I wanted him to know how much it scared me when he fell just because he wanted to show off. I think when you told Kenta off for getting into a fight, you felt the same way. You were scared that he was gonna get into more trouble for what he did, and you wanted him to know it."

"Yes, you're right," said Monika, smiling at her. She sighed, momentarily dispelling the genial air on her features. "I just wish I can let him know that everything's fine now, that he's gotten through what happened and is now ready to make up for it. It's what I wanted to talk to him about when I visited him, but it sort of got sidetracked when Mom showed up."

"Oh, I see. . ." Sayori pursed her lips, thinking as she crumpled up the cookie's wrapper idly in her hands. The way Monika spoke made Sayori feel for her quite a bit; after all, she had always been there to check on her whenever she was down in the dumps, and Sayori wanted to pay her back in any way she can.

_Hmm . . . What would Akihiro do?_

It took only a few more moments for Sayori to know the answer to that. _Boys love surprising their girlfriends, _she had told Monika. Perhaps this time around, the roles needed to be reversed.

* * *

More patrons had started flocking into _The Cocoa Connection _as of late, eager to escape the cold autumn weather with hot beverages and the bistro's warm interior. Sayori glanced around as she walked, quickly scanning the place for a four-person booth. Thankfully, luck was on her side as one such booth was vacated, its occupants finished with their afternoon coffee. She jogged posthaste towards it and sat down, securing it successfully for her other companions who were still on their way.

As always, Akihiro was ready to help her in any way he can, and he had agreed to her plan when she had told him about it through text earlier. He had also been the one to invite Kenta to the bistro under the pretense of asking him to join the two of them; ever ready to help out a buddy in need, Kenta had agreed, not knowing the small surprise Sayori and Akihiro had in store.

Sure enough, Akihiro arrived with Kenta around ten minutes after Sayori did. Kenta looked relatively easygoing as he approached the booth. "Hello there, Sayori," he said with a grin.

"Hello, Kenta!" Sayori greeted cheerfully back. "I'm glad you were able to join me and Akihiro."

"Well, I figured that I needed to unwind a bit," Kenta acknowledged. "Rough week, rough week."

"Are you sure you're okay with third-wheeling, though?" Akihiro asked as he sat down next to Sayori.

"Wouldn't be the first time," said Kenta, laughing. "Just act like I'm not here."

"Hey, come on, we invited you here so that we can all talk and have a bit of fun, okay?" Akihiro told him. "We don't want you feeling left out, of course. Besides, it's been a while since we got to talk to you, man."

"Yeah, I know," said Kenta, sighing as he ran a hand through his spiky red hair. "Daisuke and Naoki have been texting me nonstop, asking me when I'm gonna be coming back to eat with you guys again. It's good to know that some people have missed me during my absence," he added, laughing.

"They're not the only ones who missed you, Kenta," said Sayori in earnest. "Moni really wants to catch up with you. She told me about her visit last week."

"Did she?" Kenta blushed slightly. "Yeah, I wish we'd manage to talk a bit more then, to be honest."

"I think you'll get the chance to do that soon enough," said Akihiro lightly. He glanced at Sayori, who couldn't quite keep her grin suppressed.

Ten more minutes later, when the three of them had managed to order their desired beverages from the counter—a strawberries-and-crème frappe for Sayori, a caramel mocha frappe for Akihiro, and a dark chocolate macchiato for Kenta—the conversations went underway. Sayori made it clear not to mention Monika again for a while, intending to make her entrance all the more surprising. Instead, she and Akihiro asked Kenta about school—what plans the three of them had for the festival, what everyone was doing for their classes' booths, and everything else in between. Though Kenta replied and talked easily enough, Sayori could not help but notice that he seemed to be holding back on the humor and side stories that often punctuated his words, preferring instead to let her and Akihiro dictate much of the conversations.

"So Kenta," said Akihiro after a while, "do you think we can all finally make that second get-together happen after the festival? I've been thinking about it sometimes, and I'm sure Sayori here's doing the same."

"That depends on how busy Monika's gonna be, I guess," Kenta replied as he took a sip of macchiato. "I dunno if the debate club's gonna be given a break after the festival, or even during it. But knowing her, I'm sure she'll find the time to make it with us."

"Haven't you talked to Monika about it for the past weeks or so?" asked Sayori.

"Yeah, but given how busy she is, we mostly end up talking about how our day went, or what's new," said Kenta. "And after my, uh . . . short break away from school, we haven't managed to talk much."

"Well, do you want to talk again now?" said a cordial voice behind him.

Startled, Kenta looked around to see Monika standing there. Even Sayori was surprised; with the conversations keeping the three of them engaged, they had failed to see Monika entering the bistro. Kenta quickly scrambled up on his feet, his face reddening.

"M-M-Monika!" he managed to stammer. Watching the scene unfold before them, Akihiro grinned knowingly at Sayori, who couldn't stifle a giggle.

"Mind if I join you three?" Monika asked gaily.

"Of course, Moni!" said Sayori. Kenta shifted his glance towards her and Akihiro, flustered.

"W-Wait, you knew she was coming?" he asked them.

"All part of the plan," said Akihiro lightly.

Monika laughed. "That it was," she said. "Anyway, I'm just gonna order something real quick, and then we all start talking again afterwards, hmm?"

"Wait, I'll h-help you order!" said Kenta, who quickly scrambled up on his feet. Monika beamed at him, and together the two of them made their way to the counter.

When they made it back to the booth with Monika's white chocolate macchiato and a plate of fudge brownies for all of them, Kenta immediately asked, "S-So, lemme get this straight. You two set this meetup for me and Monika?"

"Mostly it was Sayori's idea," said Akihiro. "She just needed help in inviting you over, so that's where I came in."

"We figured that it'd be nice to have you and Monika start getting back together, Kenta," Sayori added. "I told you she missed you a lot."

"That I did," Monika added, taking Kenta by the hand and sitting down on the seat next to his, prompting him to sit back down as well. "Even when I visited you at your house, we didn't get to talk as much as I wanted us to."

"That's—I mean, I . . . I wasn't expecting . . . you know," Kenta mumbled, still visibly embarrassed.

"That's alright. At least we can do it all over again here, with Sayori and Akihiro to keep us company," said Monika as she stroked his hand. "So how are you?"

Despite Monika's touches and the presence of both Sayori and Akihiro, Kenta didn't shy away. "I . . . I'm doing fine, I guess," he replied. "Everything's been normal so far except for, um . . . ah, I dunno if I should say it."

"Kenta, it's fine," Monika assured him. "Go right ahead, we're here to listen."

"Are you guys sure?" Kenta asked.

"Of course, Kenta!" said Sayori willingly. Akihiro nodded beside her. "If you're okay with it, you can tell us."

Kenta sighed resignedly. "A-Alright. Well, I don't need to recap to you guys what happened to me, and I think it's safe to say that the incident itself became pretty big news at school. I wasn't really expecting a hundred-percent warm welcome when I came back, and I was right. My friends were pretty happy to see me back, but some others weren't exactly feeling the same."

"Do you mean the seniors you got into trouble with?" Monika asked him.

"Not really," Kenta replied. "Do you remember those guys I told you about? The ones that liked talking behind my back when we started dating? Well, I think they might've gotten a bit braver after that little incident. I've been hearing some of them taunting me in the corridors recently, calling me names and stuff and acting like I'm not the one they're talking about. I guess they were happy that I got taken down a notch."

"That's not very nice," said Sayori, feeling hurt for him.

"Yeah, those punks don't have anything better to do," Akihiro joined in, looking peeved. "You don't have to listen to them, man. They're just big jerks, nothing more."

"I agree. I've told you about this before, Kenta," Monika added. "You shouldn't let them get to you like this. If they want to talk about you like that and be petty just because they're jealous, that's their problem. It won't change the fact that they're just really insecure about you."

"I know, I know," Kenta muttered. "It's not like I'm gonna snap out of nowhere and beat the living daylights out of them, anyway. I'm just f-feeling pretty down, that's all. It still hurts to hear stuff like that, y'know? I mean, I ain't a stranger to being called all sorts of things, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt sometimes. And I'm just scared that it might get too much and I'll pick a fight all over again and end up disappointing you guys."

Monika sighed, squeezing his hand. "You know better now, Kenta. I know that you won't make the same mistake twice, and that you won't let those people win over you. The best thing that you can do from now on would be to start moving forward again. You're better than them, alright? You can do this."

"I agree, Kenta," said Sayori, smiling. "You're a strong and helpful person. Don't let those meanies get to you like that. J-Just don't beat them up!"

"I'm sure he won't, Sayori," said Akihiro with a laugh. "Anyway, you've got this, Kenta. I'm sure Daisuke and Naoki have told you no less."

Kenta let out a short laugh. "I wonder how those two dolts are. It's been a while since we had lunch together. Well, at least they have Natsuki and Yuri to keep them company. I hope they're all doing fine."

"I've been in touch with them for a while now—Daisuke and Naoki, I mean," said Akihiro. "And yeah, they've been asking me about you for a while now. Have you talked to them yet?"

"Not really," Kenta admitted, sighing. "Maybe after this, I can start joining them for lunch again. To be honest, it feels stupid taking some time off away from you all, now that I see how concerned you guys are about me."

"No, it's alright, Kenta," said Monika earnestly. "If you needed some time to reflect on things, there's nothing wrong with that. Just don't forget, we're here for you, okay? You don't have to beat yourself up when something goes wrong. You've taught me a lot about handling these kinds of things, so you shouldn't forget that your wisdom applies also to you when you have problems. If you feel the need to distance yourself for a while, go ahead. We'll always be waiting for you to come back and make our days a bit brighter."

"Aww, that's so sweet, Moni!" Sayori cried out.

"Amen to that," Akihiro added.

Kenta looked at the three of them, smiling apologetically and blushing at Monika. "Thanks, guys. I really, really appreciate it. And not just your words of wisdom—all this, setting things up so that Monika can talk to me, it's really nice of you."

"That's my Sayori," said Akihiro. Sayori blushed as well as he put his arm around her.

From there, things started lightening up. Kenta became slightly more open and candid as time passed by, while Monika looked happier and more content compared to how she was earlier. Topics took on a lighter note, and soon they found themselves wishing that Daisuke, Naoki, Natsuki and Yuri were there with them, hearkening back to the dynamic atmosphere that they shared during their first get-together. Even so, things were fine enough, and Sayori felt elated that she had managed to help Monika and Kenta reconnect after the turmoil that had briefly caused some distance to form between them. After Monika's help during her low days with Akihiro and the burden of her thoughts, it was the least she could do to return the favor.

* * *

As he walked up the stairs to his apartment unit, Akihiro felt good. The day had gone by both productively and meaningfully, and with Sayori's help things had brightened up even more. Even now, he commended her for getting the idea of drawing Monika and Kenta together, both to make the meetup more enjoyable and to help the two of them feel better after what had happened. Though he wouldn't have complained if he ended up being alone with Sayori, it felt good to have other friends around to make it a double date.

Entering his apartment unit, he quickly threw his school blazer and shirt among his growing pile of dirty clothes, thanking the stars that the smell of paint on it had not been overwhelming enough to be noticed by anyone at the_ Cocoa Connection_ earlier. Sayori's plan had come so suddenly that he had no time to go home and take a quick bath like he had wanted, and perhaps even put on a nicer set of clothes. He cringed as he remembered his first official date with her, about how he had shown up in very casual clothes while Sayori had dressed up in her best attire thus far. Then again, it wasn't like he had better clothes to wear just yet, as his best pair of pants and his better-looking shirts had been at the nearby laundromat that day. From then on, Akihiro had made it a point to ensure that he would always have better clothes at hand whenever a future date with Sayori would happen.

Fifteen minutes later, having taken a bath and set aside his things to settle down for the evening, he sent Sayori a text. "_done smelling like paint—and abt time too _XD _wyd?_"

"_just got done a while ago _:) _imy already _:("

Even though he was alone in his room, Akihiro found himself blushing. "_there u go again… 2 be fair, i miss u too. do u want me 2 come over?_"

"_no, it's ok_ :( _i still have somewhere 2 go, and i dunno wat time i'll be back_"

"_oh, that's fine. 2morrow then?_"

When Sayori did not reply, Akihiro decided to take some time sorting out his school things for tomorrow, wondering what else needed to be done in preparation for the festival. Some of his friends had started messaging one another in their group chat earlier, asking if they would be including a certain setting in their scavenger hunt or if they would need to change some of the scenarios they would be using for the roleplaying. Akihiro let them debate among themselves for a while as he sifted through his things.

A sudden knock on the door made him look up. Akihiro frowned as he stood up to answer, wondering who it could be. His initial guess was that it was either the apartment's landlady looking to ask about rent, or a tenant who had mistaken his door for another one. As he opened the door, however, he found himself startled out of his thoughts momentarily.

Sayori was standing there, wearing her white jacket over a carnation pink shirt and a pair of blue shorts, with her white sneakers as well. A plastic bag dangled from her left hand, and she smiled apologetically as Akihiro stared at her.

"S-Sayori?" Akihiro stammered. "What . . . W-What are you . . . ?"

Sayori let out a shy giggle. "I told you I had somewhere to go."

Akihiro scratched his head, still aghast. "But I thought you were—"

"You're not the only one who's full of surprises, Akihiro," Sayori cut across him, looking both determined and bashful as she spoke. "A-And I thought that if I miss you, then I should do something about it, so here I am! Anyway, I bought some snacks, s-so you won't have to go out for some. We can eat out if you want—I have some money with me too, so that you won't have to treat me o-or anything."

She held up the plastic bag. Akihiro glanced at it for a moment before looking back at her. From the way she spoke, it was obvious that her plan with Monika and Kenta wasn't the only thing she had been working on earlier. That it had gotten past him without any clues was what had thrown Akihiro off guard. Inwardly, he whispered a prayer of thanks that he was at least wearing some decent clothes to match Sayori's this time—a white shirt and a pair of black jogging pants, though the grey socks he was wearing to ward off the night's cold looked rather out of place.

"I g-guess that means we're even?" he asked Sayori sheepishly.

"Not quite yet," she replied, grinning.


	50. Chapter 50 - Tracing the Lines

_A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters._

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY – TRACING THE LINES (YuKi)**

The words still rang fresh from that day in Naoki's mind. The way Yuri had embraced him, had confessed what she dared while being in tears all throughout . . . it was a marvel that he even made it back home on his own without getting lost as his own worries started mounting. Yuri had seem torn between wanting to be with him and hiding her face after what had happened, but Naoki was thankful that she seemed to dwell on the former even more. He had not stopped trying to assure her of his help and companionship over and over, to make good on his promise that he would indeed help her overcome her problems of her anxiety and the answers she oft sought in the glinting blades of her knives.

But _how_?

Despite all that he had read about instances of self-harm, about what the people involved felt and what their reasons were, about the steps they had taken to try and curb the habit, Naoki felt like he was nowhere close to having any concrete help for Yuri. His own fear that she might have a relapse always lingered, preventing him from asking anything about her current situation lest she feel too pressured by his prodding. It was only when Yuri chose to open up about what she felt comfortable that Naoki could act, asking her about what other problems she was having and what he could do to help her. Yuri would tell him that everything was going as smoothly as can be, but he could not shake off the idea that she was understandably holding back.

For now, Naoki had to make do with the information he had, focusing on those tidbits and trying to see what solution he can form out of them. It was obvious that Yuri's self-harm came as an outlet for her anxiety, but whether or not that anxiety stemmed from a bad childhood experience or something else was another matter that he wanted to identify. Yuri had mentioned before how people had treated her as a pariah, a know-it-all who often talked before thinking, and it wasn't hard to guess that this contributed greatly to her introversion. But Naoki wanted to know if there was some form of pain beneath those experiences, an instance where Yuri was explicitly abused in a verbal, emotional or even physical manner. Perhaps Yuri also cut herself as some form of punishment whenever she feels that she had overstepped her boundaries in a conversation, and it made him wonder with dread whether his past conversations with her had caused Yuri to take up her knife and . . .

Naoki shook his head, closing the book in front of him and standing up from his desk. He had wanted to read in order to pass the time and hopefully distract himself even just a little bit from his worries. He had eaten what he could keep down earlier at dinner and doubled down on his efforts to complete his homework, but once he had nothing else to do it became hard to keep his thoughts at bay. Not even the potentially light tone of the upcoming festival seemed to be enough to ease his mood, especially since the work he did with Yuri at her house had been the catalyst to their current predicament.

But amidst all this were glimmers of respite, unwittingly provided by their friends. Kenta returning to school after his suspension provided a good breath of fresh air, with how dreary things seemed to have become in his absence. While he had been understandably hesitant still about reconnecting with everyone, he was slowly easing back into the fun-loving, wisecracking firebrand that everyone knew well. But Naoki knew that this was not the only welcome development that had happened thus far; Natsuki had surprised him, Yuri and Daisuke recently with her plans to bake for the festival, even bringing along some cupcakes for them to taste-test and help her decide for real. Naoki had been talking to Yuri then, doing his best to calm her nerves after she had almost shown up late for school, a result of the sleepless nights she had been enduring since their fateful encounter. Natsuki's arrival had almost been timely, as it distracted them from their problems while also giving them something more to look forward to next week at the festival. Yuri had even confessed to him later that day about how she missed having small discussions with Natsuki on the rooftop, and that she felt happy about how she had managed to keep connecting with her in spite of their obvious differences. On a happier day, Naoki would have relished the chance to see Natsuki and Yuri bond more in person, but he was nonetheless happy that their most recent exchange had given Yuri some measure of gladness. He only wished for brighter days for everyone ahead—not just for Yuri, but also for Natsuki, as the faint bruise near her eye made him remember Daisuke's confession about her home situation, tarnishing the innocence of their brief but delightful encounter.

Naoki exited his room and made his way downstairs. With his homework done, he had nothing else to do, and he hoped that a glass of water and some snacks can hopefully prepare his mind for another long evening. His cellphone had been totally quiet; apart from some occasional texts from Daisuke and Kenta, there were no lengthy conversations to be had, and Yuri was obviously out of the question. As he entered the kitchen and walked over to the cupboards for a snack, Naoki was seized by a desire to go out and visit her, to check on how she was doing and keep her company during what would probably be another sleepless night for her, though his thoughts were held in check as he imagined just how Yuri would react to another sudden visit from him.

With some relief, he saw that his mother had stacked up on a new bag of their favorite trail mix in their cupboard. He took it out, filled up a glass of water from the nearby sink, and sat at their dining table to mull things over. Reading would have been a good accompaniment to his solitude, but it would only remind him of Yuri all over again. Then again, it wasn't like he could escape from everything; going online to read again about self-harm and anxiety had become part of his nightly routine, and he often ended up cramming more about such articles than he would expect. His continuing efforts reminded him of a famous phrase about insanity—_doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results_. Then again, if such a phrase was to be followed, then Naoki had no problems being called insane.

* * *

Kenta officially rejoined them at lunchtime the next day, with Naoki and Daisuke supplying fanfare in the form of applause and claps on the back; Akihiro was spotted at another table, waving cheerily as he saw them. To the rest of the student body in the cafeteria, it was as if nothing had changed, but Naoki knew better as he and Kenta immediately settled down to talk, though their conversations soon had him feeling like it was simply another normal day at school.

"—think that the first Friday after the festival's a good time?" asked Kenta. "Monika and I talked about it, and she really wants to make it happen before their practice goes full-time."

"Yeah, maybe we can make it happen," said Daisuke through a mouthful of rice.

"I thought you had already eaten with Natsuki earlier?" asked Naoki amusedly as he watched him eat with them.

"That was speed-eating," Daisuke mumbled, swallowing. "Natsuki was needed for a small meeting with our festival group, so we had to eat quick. Thought I'd get a second helping here to last me for the rest of the day."

"Hey, c'mon, guys," Kenta interjected peevishly. "Are we gonna start drawing up the plans or what?"

"Oh, right, sorry about that," said Daisuke. "Go right ahead."

"Is it going to be at Monika's place again?" Naoki inquired, chewing on a piece of fish.

"I think she'd be fine with that, unless you guys know another place we can go to," Kenta replied. "Someplace everyone can enjoy themselves, but somewhere that isn't already overused."

"The mall?" Daisuke proffered jokingly.

"That's the definition of overused, ya dolt."

"The arcade?"

Kenta sighed. ". . . Are you serious right now?"

"I'm sorry, man," said Daisuke, laughing. "Just wanted to mess around while I'm thinking of a serious answer. It's just good to have you back, y'know?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Kenta in a sheepish tone. "Sheesh, it's like I left the planet or something. . ."

"Felt like that," said Daisuke. "Anyway, I think one of the best bets you can have for the get-together is to actually go out of town. I mean, we've got some nice places here and there, but they don't exactly offer anything fresh for us people who've been living here for years now. A walk in the park, a session at the arcade, circling the mall for the nth time, there's just nothing new to do.

"It's times like these when I've thought about going out of town," Daisuke continued. "Maybe we can take a bullet train real quick to Tokyo, get lost in a new city for once. We can eat out and then go exploring in the districts, and we'd never even run out of places to go to. I think everyone would love that."

"Our allowances won't," Kenta pointed out.

". . . Well, maybe. But if we all chip in, it won't be that bad, right?"

"Let's just set that aside for the future, I guess. Anyway, how about the park? I think a picnic sounds pretty cool. . ."

"Pot luck picnic?"

"Maybe, but I don't think we'll need to cook actual dishes. Just . . . bring your own snacks, I guess."

"Sounds good. Hey, Naoki? You okay, dude?"

Naoki shook his head, as if awakened from a trance. He looked up to see Kenta and Daisuke looking at him with mild curiosity. Only then did he realize that he had drifted off with his own thoughts for almost a minute now.

"You're being real quiet all of a sudden, man," said Daisuke. "I thought you left the table or something."

"I'm fine," said Naoki with a small smile. "Just . . . thinking about stuff, that's all."

"By 'stuff,' you obviously mean Yuri," said Kenta in an amused tone.

Naoki chuckled, his expression belying the worry in his chest briefly. Daisuke and Kenta laughed with him, oblivious about what he was actually feeling and what he was anxious about. For a moment, he was seized with a desire to come clean, to inform them about what exactly it was that made him preoccupied. After all, Daisuke had done it with Natsuki's home situation. Kenta had done it once he got wind of Monika possibly moving away. In their circle, everyone would always have each other's backs, and Naoki knew he was free to confess what his worries were.

It was the mental image of Yuri crying, pleading with him not to tell anyone, that held him back. "You have no idea," was all he managed to say.

* * *

The tightness in her chest persisted, the chills running down her back always lingering like a pall of sickness. At every interval, it was as if something horrible, something ominous would happen at any moment. Her body was growing heavier, her energy fluctuating at extremes more and more by the day, and yet Yuri knew she had to endure.

The world seemed terminally changed since that day, that day when her anxiety had gotten the better of her. Being safe or secure was always uncertain, with the fear of another relapse and another staggering revelation lurking around the corner. It was both the luckiest and most unfortunate coincidence that Naoki had been the one to discover the truth that day, given how he had been so open and sympathetic that it was nothing short of a miracle, but it was still a small consolation given the potentially grim future that Yuri was facing. No matter how nice Naoki was being, no matter how many times she smiled and felt comforted by his presence, she kept sensing a dark lining beneath it all: the fact that his opinion of her had changed forever. It was the biggest terror that she was dreading, the proverbial sword of Damocles ready to decapitate her just as she believed she had escaped it, and Yuri had to wonder if such a terror wasn't already taking shape around her. Desperately, she had looked for signs of change in Naoki's demeanor, though she did not know if she was trying to prove her fears right or otherwise. Nothing much showed itself, but that merely gave rise to other intrusive thoughts. What if Naoki was hiding his true opinions from her out of pity? What if he had been doing that all along? What if, in her attraction towards him, she had blinded herself to the reality that she was not truly meant for any form of companionship, let alone with someone as understanding and innocent as Naoki?

She embraced her pillow tighter, feeling tears trickle out of the corners of her eyes involuntarily. In the silence of her room, there was no one to see her cry over her scars, no one except the unseen pairs of eyes that judged her to her core every time she made a mistake. Every day, it felt as if those eyes came from nearly every person that she passed, leering at her as if waiting for her to stumble and commit another huge blunder. Only a scant few were different, including Naoki, her blissfully oblivious grandmother, and to her continuing wonder, Natsuki Fujisawa.

The thought of her gave Yuri a brief moment of distractive respite, and she clung to it hastily, trying hard to focus on it so that her malaise would be eased. Though there were other moments that she could focus on—such as her time earlier with Naoki at school—that one was more profound than usual. _Cupcakes, _she remembered._ Natsuki baked some cupcakes. _Out of nowhere, she had come to them during a moment of seriousness, offering them some cupcakes and unwittingly distracting Yuri and Naoki from the continuing heaviness they were experiencing. _Yes, she's going to bake for the festival. And we're all going to be there to taste them and enjoy the festivities and be merry. Yes, that's it._

And earlier, Naoki had told her about the next get-together that had yet to take off following their exams, no doubt thinking that the prospect of such a jaunt would help her feel better. In spite of her mounting emotional turmoil, the thought did comfort Yuri a little. It would still be hard to keep her composure in front of other people in light of recent events, but having Naoki with her and being in the presence of people that she was familiar with at least on a cordial level helped her look forward to the get-together with a bit more positivity, and the school festival would even help her bond with everyone a bit more before that—if she chose to do so, that is.

Yuri let her thoughts flow, spurred on by the fact that she was grounding herself down and away from her anxiety the more she focused on them. In her attempts to listen to what Naoki was narrating to her earlier, she also remembered him sharing Daisuke's thoughts about going out of town for new sights and trips, possibly on their next outing. Though going out of town was an entirely foreign aspect to Yuri, she knew what Daisuke was getting at. Sitting close to the border between Kanto and Chubu, their city Eishima had always been a small version of the archetypal urbane Japanese municipality. It was a modern settlement, that much was true, more developed than most of the cities and towns outside the region thanks to its relative proximity to the capital, though still not as highly industrialized. As such, its venues for curious, fun-seeking travelers and tourists were adequate but far too few. If one wanted more leisure and variety, they need only look at the urbane, neon-lit thoroughfares of bustling Tokyo and Osaka, or the rural, culturally rich sites of calmer Kyoto and Nara. In those four cities alone, there was much variety to be had indeed, and even the average citizen can find many beautiful and dynamic things in the span of a short trip. Yuri hearkened back to Naoki's small mention of _kumihimo _and Yamanashi, of the thought that she could one day visit there with him, and she marveled at how she was able to remember what should have been a trivial memory in spite of her dilemma.

It always came back to the people who mattered, Yuri mused as she wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. The ones who made everything worth the while and helped her come out of her shell, even if she was so introverted that she could not even answer a phone call from an acquaintance without stuttering. Somehow, they were the ones who prevented her from drifting back into being a ghost in the sidelines threatening to dissipate in the bright light of day. It was still difficult to go about every day pretending that everything was fine, but with the friends she had made along the way, Yuri felt that she could keep finding the momentary cure for the pall that gripped her so tightly. It wasn't much, but compared to using a knife and remembering the look on Naoki's face when he discovered her scars, there was no question about it being the better option.

Feeling slightly better, Yuri sat up gingerly on her bed. Only now did she feel the pangs of hunger in her stomach. Eating could be done easily enough, but she feared eating enough to the point where her anxiety would cause her to vomit. Thankfully, her grandmother always cooked light and healthy fare that she could keep down more easily than the food at school or from convenience stores, and she could always drink some more oolong tea to help fill her stomach without the risk of throwing up.

She found her grandmother washing dishes in the kitchen, telling her that it was past seven in the evening. The two of them always ate at six-thirty, after which they would clean up and her grandmother would rest for a while before calling it a day. Yuri felt guilty watching her at the sink; she was often the one who washed the dishes for her, but her grandmother clearly saw fit not to disturb her for dinner.

She looked around as Yuri entered the kitchen. "Ah, Granddaughter, you're awake," she said. "I thought you had already tucked in for the night."

"I'm s-sorry, Grandmother. I just d-drifted off, that's all," Yuri replied timidly.

"No need to worry. Your _okayu _is in the oven. I didn't want to put it in the refrigerator just yet in case you came down to eat."

"Thank you, Grandmother. . ."

Soon, as she heated some water for her tea, Yuri began to calm down some more. Her grandmother was wiping her freshly washed dishes dry with a clean cloth, her age noticeably weighing down the movements of her hands and arms. As she watched her, Yuri wanted to stand up and take over for her, but her grandmother spoke up again not long after, forestalling her thoughts.

"You look bedraggled, Granddaughter," she told her. "Rough day at school?"

_Rough days all around. _"Y-You could say that, Grandmother," said Yuri.

"Maybe all this coldness in the air has something to do with it," her grandmother mused. "I hope it doesn't become too much when winter comes. Before you know it, the first snowflakes will come. And to think that autumn was only just starting a short while back! My, how fast does time fly, indeed."

Time _did _fly fast, Yuri mused, but it always slowed down to a crawl whenever problems arose. Still, it would not do to punctuate her grandmother's idle talk with such a somber premise. "Do you think there will be more snow this year, Grandmother?" she asked instead.

"With all this cold? It could be anyone's guess," her grandmother replied. "I remember how your grandfather would observe the birds coming in when he would go fishing in the creek in autumn. He could predict how snowy the coming winter would be depending on how many birds he'd see flying here to escape the snows north of Honshu. I suppose we should be thankful that our city doesn't see as much snow as up there."

Yuri smiled wistfully at the memory of her grandfather. She remembered how he would often catch fish at the creek for them to eat at dinner every day, and regale her with stories of how Eishima used to be back when he was still a young man. Though her parents were absent, he had made things easier to deal with, and her grandmother would reminisce at length during lazy afternoons about how much she missed his company.

By the time she returned to her room after a brief but comforting dinner, Yuri began wondering what to do before calling it a night. A quick glance at her cellphone yielded no new messages, and she mused that Naoki must be busy with something at the moment. Not wanting to wait for any message from him and risk thinking about something she would start worrying overly about, she went over to her desk and contemplated taking out her copy of _The Portrait of Markov _from her schoolbag. In light of recent events, she found it remarkable in a somber sort of way that Libitina's miserable experiences were something that she could relate to, and she wanted to keep on reading in order to find out how it will end for the dark heroine. Still, Yuri felt unable to face the idea of reading ahead knowing that Naoki was as invested in _Markov _as she was, even though he had assured her many times before that if she needed to read ahead in order to feel better, she was more than free to do so.

Caught in her thoughts, Yuri looked down at the bottommost drawer on her desk. It was somewhat an involuntary glance; brought by force of habit or a mere nudge from her psyche, she could not say. Still, she did not need clear thinking to know what sat in that particular drawer. As she stared, her heartbeat rose at the thought.

But not for long. Yuri shook her head rapidly, as if trying to drive away an irksome fly that was buzzing around her face. _No, not anymore. Not this time. _With an obvious effort to keep anything inside her from boiling over, she reached for her schoolbag and took out a random notebook, placing it on top of the desk with more force than she would normally do. She stared long and hard at it for a moment, trying to force her thoughts to focus.

_Lines. I need lines._

She reached out towards the nearby pencil case, wondering momentarily when her fingers had started trembling. She took a pen at random, flipped her notebook open, and stared down at a blank page. Taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves, she braced the pen gingerly with her fingers.

_A prompt. Yes, that'd be a good way to start._

And yet for a moment, Yuri could not find anything in her thoughts that she could use to craft the first lines of whatever she was going to write. Everything seemed drowned out by her worries and the somberness of the past few days. But still, Yuri knew there were nuggets of positivity to be found if she could only focus. She decided to look at the most recent developments she could remember.

_Grandfather. The festival. Natsuki and her cupcakes. Those could work. _And of course, there was Naoki, who sat above the rest of them. Though her hands and thoughts still felt unsure, Yuri readied her pen with a small twinge of determination, knowing that she could at least find an opening in these thoughts that she could start expounding on.

* * *

At school the next day, emotions were slowly rising in anticipation for festival week come Monday. More and more decorations for various booths began popping up in and around certain classrooms, and more students could be seen utilizing some areas to work on their prospective projects—the open field's sidelines, on the stone benches beneath the trees, and even the rooftop. Though Yuri felt anxious about drawing attention from people she knew as she waited on the rooftop, the students were too busy focusing on their work to even notice her. She slipped past them and hastily settled down on her usual spot, beginning the wait for Naoki. In her hands, slightly crumpled from being held too tight by her trembling fingers, her new poem was ready.

But though she managed to turn up a page's worth from two hours' worth of writing and rewriting, Yuri felt that it was far from the standards she was used to delivering. Some of the lines did not seem to ring as well as she wanted them to, and the flow was all over the place. Encouraged by the feel of putting words on paper, she had started laying down a plan to create a leitmotif for what she would end up writing: a sense of security and respite, things that seemed elusive for her nowadays. Indeed, instead of choosing separately between her memories of her grandfather as well as Naoki, Natsuki and the forthcoming lightness of the school festival, she had decided to use all of them in individual poems that tied them all together, putting down the past, present and future in four four-line stanzas. The only problem was that she felt her expectations had been too high, and she wondered despairingly if what she had written was something Naoki would even understand.

"_Standing in the water, feeling the breeze on your face_

_Like a beacon basking in the sunset as the fishes teem_

_Before going home to open arms and smiles, a safe place_

_Treasured memories indeed, their light a soothing gleam_

* * *

_Walking over the stone paths and grassy roads_

_Towards acquaintances waiting for joy and a bright day ahead_

_To see warmth in cold grey, to find respite amid a sea of dread_

_With a present like this, does it matter still what the future holds?_

* * *

_As colors change and shapes arise, though fleeting it may all be_

_There is always much to be had and seen, if one only dares look_

_Black and white become no more; instead the world shines free_

_'Tis a sight well worth the long wait it took_

* * *

_Trace the lines, some people say, and you will find your way home_

_But 'tis a tricky business, and getting lost is oft probable_

_But remember that no matter how deep or how distant you may roam_

_The lines, the memories, always keep them in your chronicle_"

Five minutes into her wait, Yuri began feeling lugubriously resigned. _I shouldn't show this to him. He won't like it. I should just start all over again and turn up something better tomorrow. _Given that Naoki still wasn't in sight, it was only a matter of folding up the poem and stashing it away in her skirt's pocket, never to be seen or heard of again.

"Alone again, are we?"

Startled out of her thoughts, Yuri looked around and saw, to her surprise once again, Natsuki standing a few feet away and looking at her. Her vivid pink eyes looked curious even as her face mask gave her a very serious air. She was clutching a small bento box in her arms, and Yuri could not help but notice for the first time that the bruise near her eye was almost entirely gone.

"H-Hello there, Natsuki," Yuri stammered back, attempting to smile and coming up short at the corners of her lips. "Are you about to have lunch?"

Natsuki shook her head. "Just finished eating at the other corner of the roof. It was really noisy around here earlier, so I looked for a quieter spot. How about you? Have you eaten already?"

"Ah, y-yes, thank you for asking. Are you going downstairs already? Y-You could sit with me if you want. I'm just . . ."

Natsuki narrowed her eyes shrewdly. "Waiting for your boyfriend as usual?"

Yuri blushed. "Y-You could say that."

"And she finally admits it," Natsuki proclaimed with a chuckle. Yuri laughed nervously, anticipating a blunt joke coming, but Natsuki did not say anything else about Naoki. Instead, she went on. "Anyway, I was gonna go downstairs for a bit while Daisuke's still not here, but . . . what the heck."

At that, she walked over and sat down to Yuri's left, placing her bento box beside her. Yuri's mind raced, wondering what she could say to keep the conversation going. Natsuki, however, had her covered.

"All this work for the festival . . . I have to admit, it takes getting used to," she stated, staring around at the other students who were planning and working near them. "At least Daisuke's really doubling down on helping me. Kinda hard to back out when he's that enthusiastic about it. . ."

"Oh, is the baking going well?" Yuri inquired.

"We haven't actually started baking yet, but we did manage to buy the first batch of ingredients," Natsuki replied. "His mom's a big help, and some of our classmates chipped in a bit more than we expected."

"I see. That sounds nice."

"Y-Yeah, I guess."

When silence prevailed for a few seconds following their exchange, Natsuki let out a sigh. Yuri felt slightly jarred by it, feeling that she was doing little to keep Natsuki from being bored of her company. But again, before she could continue the conversation, Natsuki was one step ahead of her again.

"Looks like you're not reading your horror novel this time around," she observed.

"Y-Yes, and it appears you don't have your manga with you as well," said Yuri in return.

"Yeah, I forgot it downstairs." She paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing curiously. "What's that?"

"Ah!" Glancing down, Yuri realized she had forgotten about the paper she had been holding. "This? T-This is . . ." she stammered.

"It's . . . what?" asked Natsuki, raising her eyebrows at her sudden discomfiture.

Yuri swallowed, feeling as if her heart would jump free through her throat. Her current predicament brought back memories of that day when their English professor had asked her to narrate her poem out loud for her classmates, opening the door for her to lay bare her feelings for Naoki for the first time. In her hands, the paper began crumpling up more as she clutched it tighter. It was hard enough to show them to someone she was close with like Naoki, let alone with a casual acquaintance like Natsuki. Still, Yuri also knew it would be rude to keep the poem from her when she had already noticed it.

"It's a p-p-poem. . ." she managed to say in a weak voice.

Again, Natsuki looked surprised. "A new one, eh?"

"That's r-right," said Yuri, remembering when Natsuki had noticed her writing in her notebook during their stay at _The Monocle _back then. "I wrote it last night, and I . . . I wanted to show it to N-Naoki today. . ."

"Really? So it's a love poem?" said Natsuki.

"N-Not really," said Yuri, feeling even more flustered at the thought of writing another poem expressing her immense adoration and affection for Naoki. "Just an ordinary poem, t-that's all."

"Uh-huh, sure," Natsuki intoned amusedly. However, the knowing humor in her eyes faded somewhat as she kept staring at the paper with mild interest. Though she was still reluctant to keep talking about her work, Yuri sensed that somehow, someway, Natsuki was genuinely curious about what she had written. The thought made Yuri feel both wary and curious, as perhaps she was merely overthinking about things, but then again, Natsuki had also shown mild interest about what she liked before.

Yuri decided to take the risk. "D-Do you want to read it?"

Though only Natsuki's eyes were truly visible above her face mask, Yuri noticed her expression change considerably. "Read?" Natsuki repeated, as if she had misheard.

When Yuri nodded, Natsuki sat up straighter, her gaze returning to the paper in her hand. "To be honest, I'm starting to feel curious about your writing," she admitted. "It's not every day that I get to meet a writer—or at least someone who's willing to let me read their love poems," she added jokingly.

Yuri shrank back at her comment, feeling mortified. "That's . . . If you think of it that way, t-then . . ."

Noticing her embarrassment, Natsuki sat up straighter. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to sound rude or anything. Just wanted to, y'know, lighten things up. . ."

"Ah, I see. . . That's alright." Yuri swallowed nervously, taking one more look at her poem.

"If you r-really want to read it, h-here," she muttered, holding it out almost reluctantly towards Natsuki, who now looked completely surprised.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm s-sure."

With that, Natsuki reached out to take the poem from her cold fingers. Yuri quickly looked away, not wanting to watch Natsuki read the poem and see a semblance of any negative reaction. It wasn't that she was expecting a commentary full of praise, but still, she did not want to hear just how scattered her words were.

At last, Natsuki spoke up. "Well, it's about what I expected from someone like you," she remarked in a would-be casual tone.

"W-What do you mean?" asked Yuri; the fact that Natsuki had begun her review with such a tentative statement made her feel nervous of the actual truth beneath it.

"It's . . . you," Natsuki stated. "I mean, you as in you being smart and well-spoken, you know. All these big words and stuff. . . It fits the kind of voice you have."

"Ah, I see. . ." Yuri regarded her for a moment. "A-Are you saying that like it's a bad thing . . .?" she went on nervously.

"Not really, but . . ." Natsuki's eyebrows furrowed. "Well, I'm not exactly a fan of big words in a poem."

Yuri's heart fell at her words. _I knew it was horrible. _"W-Why is that?"

"I just don't believe that people always need big words to express how they feel," Natsuki replied. "Not that your poem was bad or anything because of that. Your style is alright, I guess. Like I said, it fits you to a T."

Somehow, Natsuki's reassurance near the end of her remarks did little to soothe Yuri's fears. Still, she beat the thought down, trying to convince her mind that Natsuki was merely offering constructive criticism in her own blunt way, and not shutting down her writing for being too fanciful.

"I understand," she said, trying hard to engage Natsuki in a civil discussion without letting her anxiety or introversion get in the way. "When I write, I use my own voice and the words I know, and for me the deeper the terminologies used, the better it will be for the meaning conveyed.

"I see. . ." Natsuki shrugged. "Well, lemme just say this—if _I'm_ gonna make a poem, I'd keep it simple but meaningful. Not a lot of deep vocabulary involved, but you can be sure that it won't have any less impact because of that. Basically, it'd be easy to read, but it'll also hit you hard."

As her words rang out, Yuri regarded Natsuki with fresh eyes. Somehow, it surprised her that she was starting to speak about writing in such a manner—slightly defensive, especially for someone who has admitted to never writing a poem in a casual manner the same way Yuri did. Ignoring the slight competitiveness in Natsuki's tone, though, Yuri could not help but sense that Natsuki was growing more and more engaged with the topic now that she was offering her opinions in such a direct but dynamic manner.

"Why don't _you_ try writing a poem then, Natsuki?" she asked her cordially.

Natsuki looked startled. "What do you mean?"

"I've said before that writing a poem can be cathartic for people, and it can even be fulfilling at times. Perhaps there are certain themes or issues that you would like to put into words apart from writing them in a diary or something."

"Well, you do have a point, but . . ."

"O-Of course, I'm not forcing you to start writing or anything," Yuri hastily added. "I just w-wanted to invite you into doing something that you might find meaningful. I can tell that you're interested s-somewhat."

"Hey, I'm n-not _that_ interested, okay?" declared Natsuki, her straightforward aura momentarily dispelled as she looked self-conscious. "I was just p-pretty curious about your poem, that's all."

"C-Curious enough to start talking about what your writing style would be?" Yuri jested, the words popping out of her mouth before she could think.

"I . . . Y-You . . ." Natsuki spluttered. "N-Now you're starting to sound like Daisuke!"

"You called?" rang a boy's familiar voice.

Their conversation momentarily interrupted, Yuri and Natsuki turned around to see Daisuke and Naoki approaching them. "Hello there, Yuri!" Daisuke greeted cheerfully.

"H-Hello, Daisuke," Yuri greeted back with a nervous smile, which grew wider as her gaze shifted to Naoki, who nodded at her with a grin.

Still evidently flustered by their exchange, Natsuki stood up, walked over to Daisuke, and to Yuri's slight shock, punched him in the arm. Daisuke staggered a little, alarmed and pained by the blow.

"Hey, hey, hey! What was that for?!" he cried out, rubbing his arm.

"For being a wise guy, dummy!" Natsuki shot back.

Naoki, who was watching the encounter unfold before him with a look of mixed surprise and amusement, glanced over inquisitively at Yuri, who only managed to giggle. During those moments, lost as she was in the dynamic flow of emotions and thoughts she had briefly experienced, her anxiety had died down, and Yuri saw that her thoughts in the poem were true; when it came to seeking respite from the ills of daily life, the people around her did matter.

* * *

_A/N: And here comes Goopy with another oof. My apologies for not delivering this chapter sooner, guys. Thankfully, there aren't a lot of mishaps and stress this time around. I just got really busy with a lot of things - work, helping at home, and tutoring on the side. I'm hopeful that as I start writing chapter fifty-one, I'll be able to finish it sooner now that I've got a clearer head and a slightly better schedule._

_Also, you will notice that certain places from Japan will start popping up, beginning with this chapter. I bought a travel book about Japan recently to help me with the setting for my story, with the towns and cities and prefectures and whatnot. I hope it'll flesh out the world in the story even more for you as you read._

_Anyway, that's that. See you in the next chapter!_


	51. Chapter 51 - To Hold Back

**CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE – TO HOLD BACK (MoniKenta)**

Kenta muttered to himself as he knelt down, ready to pick up the fourth cardboard box he had returned for in the classroom. With appeals to his pride and strength, he had been tasked by his classmates to help with lifting and carrying boxes of the borrowed materials they had used for their booths—extra cans of paint, brushes and other such things—back downstairs at the maintenance room. At first, there had been four of them working with him, but with growing suspicion and irritation Kenta saw that they seemed to vanish, one after another, always with an excuse and a bunch of apologies.

_Late for dinner, late for a date, late for whatever. Little dolts should've just told me that they wanted me to do all the work. _Though Kenta did not often complain about the kind of menial work he did during projects and undertakings like this, he would have at least appreciated a bit of help. Still, it would not do to just leave everything unfinished just because he was now alone in his group. Few other students passed by, cleaning up as well. Though the day was growing late, Kenta knew that a few more minutes would not hurt, seeing as how he had no urgent reason to be at home immediately. Also, there was the idea that Monika might still be at school, wrapping up debate practice with her club. Perhaps if she was indeed still around, a short trip downtown would help ease his mood after a hard day's work.

For the most part, Kenta did grudgingly prefer the quiescence of after-school work. Although it left him with no friends to chat with and make things easier, it granted him some form of peace after his return to school from suspension. No explicit comments were made about his altercation with seniors, but true to his musings, some of the contemptuous stares and whispered remarks he had been hearing before have now started increasing. Whenever he was alone in going about the school or when he made his way to lunch, he would catch groups of boys looking at him, sneering and shaking their heads, no doubt trying to get on his nerves and reveling in his recent mishap. Some of the bolder ones took to making snide comments loud enough for him to hear whenever he passed them by.

"Dunno about you, guys, but if I were suspended because of some lousy idiot, I'd want payback."

"Do you think showing off is a good enough reason to get laid off of school for a while? I think that's what happened to someone I know."

"I've been thinking. How long d'you guys think it'll be before Monika comes to her senses about her taste?"

"The line's probably forming up for Monika as we speak. Wanna start signing up?"

Kenta sighed gruffly, shaking his head and instead focusing on carrying his box of materials carefully down the stairs. The initial sting of such encounters have left their mark on him a lot more than he wanted, but he knew that lashing out and confronting his detractors would do him no more good than his fight did. More incidents would put his status as a student in further jeopardy, and he did not want to deal with another disappointment to his family and to Monika anymore. His last encounter with Monika—a surprise put into motion by Sayori and Akihiro—had solidified his desire to never have another mishap.

Outside the windows in the corridors, the sun was starting to paint the surroundings in a mixed hue of orange and gold, blending in perfectly with the autumnal foliage of the trees around the school and in the rest of Eishima. It was the best time to hold the school festival indeed, right before the first snowflakes fell and made outside excursions and gatherings difficult. With the amount of effort that everyone was putting in, Kenta looked forward to seeing how well things would go this time, and he found himself wishing that he hadn't mucked things up to dampen everything slightly in his perspective.

Kenta was still lost in his thoughts when he entered the cramped maintenance room. Carrying his box carefully, he made his way around spare classroom armchairs, piles of other cardboard boxes, cleaning materials, and even some lockers. He half-expected the school caretaker to be present as he was earlier during his previous deposits, but he was all alone this time around.

Placing the box down next to the other boxes he had deposited before, Kenta looked around. Thankfully, he only had two more boxes to go, but the back-and-forth trips from the ground floor to the third floor were taking their toll on his legs. Kenta decided to rest for a while, knowing that the caretaker wouldn't mind as long as he did not mess up any of the things inside the room. He sat down on a nearby armchair and took out his phone, sending Monika a quick text.

"_still boxing, u still in school?_"

"_'boxing.'_ _very funny, Kenta_ :))) _yes, still here, just wrapping up practice_"

"_i hope ur vp's not giving u guys trouble..._ -_-"

"_nothing i haven't handled before, don't worry_ :) _where are you right now? wanna go out after for a quick cup of coffee after this?_ _i could really use one_"

"_are u sure abt that_"

"_yes _:) _no surprises this time, i promise_ :)))"

"_well, another surprise won't hurt _XD _anyway, are u absolutely sure?_"

"_yes, i am_ :)"

Smiling to himself, Kenta pocketed his phone, stood up, and made his way towards the maintenance room's door. The words he had been hearing all week belied his joy for a moment, but above all of them, Monika's opinion stood out the most, and that was good enough for him.

The third floor corridor was truly devoid of people by the time Kenta made his way back upstairs. Most of the students around and outside had already gone home. Sunlight seeped through the windows as the sunset progressed, bathing Kenta and the corridor in an orange hue broken by long shadows against the walls. Kenta hummed tunelessly to himself as he went, wondering what else he and Monika could do after getting coffee and counting the choices he had. When he looked up as he walked, however, he saw that he might not have to wait that long to ask Monika.

"Debate practice already done?" he called out as he approached his classroom. Monika looked around from where she was leaning against the wall next to the classroom door.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting to finish up before you did," she said, smiling. "Too much 'boxing,' I presume?"

Kenta laughed at the joke, but as he opened his mouth to reply, he stopped short for a moment when he noticed the aura in Monika's emerald eyes. She was as beautiful as ever, that much could be said, but for some reason, she also looked . . . _tired_, as if she had just finished cramming for a particularly grueling exam. Having grown used to seeing Monika being warm and accommodating most of the time, such a look would immediately tell him that something was wrong, whether at home or here at school. Somehow, her sudden invitation for a coffee downtown made a lot more sense now.

"Kenta?" Monika called out.

Kenta shook his head, noticing only then that he had begun to stare. "O-Oh, yeah, I had to fight one box after another," he said, grinning in an attempt to dispel the change on his face and mood before Monika could notice. "Featherweights and heavyweights are mixed up, but nothing my weight class can't handle."

"Oh, do you want me to help you?" asked Monika.

"Oh, no need!" Kenta said quickly. "I think I can just muscle these last two boxes on my own. N-Not that I'm trying to be, y'know, all macho or something, of course! It's j-just . . . I can handle it."

Monika narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure?" she said with a small pout.

"Y-Yeah!" Kenta stammered in reply. "Don't worry about me. You can just come with me downstairs and then we'll be on our way once I've set everything down."

"Well, if you say so," said Monika. Though the tone of her voice was light, the weary air in her eyes lingered.

And so, the two of them left the corridor and made their way back downstairs. Not wanting to delay things any further by bringing down the last two boxes separately, Kenta stacked the two of them on top of each other and carried them carefully down the stairs. Monika walked in the same pace he did next to him, guiding him so that he would not risk tumbling down. Though the boxes made it tricky for him to not miss any steps on the stairs, Kenta was thankful that they shielded his face from Monika's gaze, as it allowed him to observe her closely for any sign that she was indeed thinking seriously about something.

When the boxes were finally stored away in the storage room, Kenta dusted his hands and grinned at Monika. "I wanna make another boxing joke but I think I ran that into the ground by now," he said facetiously.

Monika grinned back in spite of the weight behind her eyes. "Very funny, Kenta."

Kenta's smile faded somewhat. "Monika. . ." he began.

"Yes, Kenta?" asked Monika.

Staring deep in her eyes and seeing more of the tiredness he had noticed, Kenta hesitated for a moment. What if her problems involved a personal matter that he had no business in? What if he was merely imagining Monika's enervation? The seconds ticked by, and Kenta knew that his reluctance was now no longer bound to go unnoticed.

Monika stepped closer. "Kenta, what is it?" she asked softly.

Kenta beseeched her intently, trying to think of the right words to ask. "I . . . I just thought you were . . . I mean, you look kinda . . . tired, that's all." He shrugged. "I dunno, I might be imagining things, don't mind me," he added with a short laugh.

But Monika, ever so insightful and intuitive, who seemed to know him better than his own self did at times, simply smiled again, as if she had sensed what else he chose not to utter. "I thought so. Well, you're not wrong. I'm feeling a bit drained right now," she replied.

Kenta looked at her for a moment. "Can I ask why?" he said quietly.

"Of course you can," said Monika in reply. "The truth is things have been happening, and not a lot of them are positive. I knew I should've told you about them before, but I guess I didn't want to stress you out as well, and I also wanted to concentrate on making it better instead of letting my emotions get the better of me."

Kenta nodded. "I understand." After a brief pause, he added rather stiffly, "It's Takeo again, right?"

Monika let out a sigh. "Partly. It's more of . . . well, my parents."

"O-Oh." Kenta fell silent for a moment, his anticipation of annoyance grinding to a sudden halt as his earlier thoughts were proven true. Though he was prepared to voice his thoughts about Takeo Kimura's stuck-up antics, family matters were an entirely different matter. Because Monika did not bring her parents up much in conversations, especially after his brief first meeting with her mother, Kenta always avoided touching on the subject.

Monika looked at him, noticing his sudden silence. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I don't want to dampen the mood or anything, but I figured it'd be better if I was honest about what I'm feeling. To be frank, it's getting hard to do that nowadays at home."

"No, no, it's okay," said Kenta hurriedly. "I just . . . I'm sorry for asking."

"Don't be," Monika told him. "You wanted to know, and I think it'd be better if I didn't shoulder this all the time on my own."

"Well, I'm glad that you trust me enough to tell me right now. I know it's stressful, and that you might not wanna talk about it right now. . ."

"It's fine." Monika smiled again to reassure him. "We'll discuss it over a cup of coffee at downtown, okay? For now, I just want to walk quietly. With you, of course."

Kenta blushed. "W-Well, I'm here all the way," he said, smiling back.

* * *

Though the _Cocoa Connection _was occupied by more people than usual, there was still solace to be found upstairs in the quieter sections of the bistro's second floor. The sight of blissful couples conversing and cuddling on loveseats belied the more somber mood that was gripping Monika, but she kept her gaze straight and made her way up the stairs in dutiful silence. Kenta followed beside her, casting occasional glances of worry as they went. Monika felt his gaze upon her many times before when they were walking downtown without exchanging a lot of words, and she could practically feel his concern and urge to start asking questions.

When their orders finally came—a cup of hot espresso for Monika, a glass of caramel macchiato for Kenta, with a clubhouse sandwich to share between the two of them—only then did Monika settle down. She let out a sigh, rubbing her eyes wearily.

"It all started yesterday, at home," she began, bracing her hands around her cup and letting the warm ceramic soothe her palms. "Mom wanted me to come along with them to this business dinner she and Dad were having with some of the people who were going to help them set up in Osaka."

"That sounds a bit lame," Kenta muttered.

"You can say that," said Monika with a short laugh. "This isn't the first time they asked me to tag along on meetings like this one, and it's always so dull for someone who's not involved in the family business like me. So I told Mom that I didn't want to go. Besides being out of place, I had things to do for the debate club, like finalizing the requirements needed for us to officially enter the nationals."

"What did your mom say?"

"She . . . She got a little peeved. It caught me off guard, to be honest. She went on this short tirade about how I'm starting to be lax about a lot of things, about how I'm starting to rebel against them and how I seem to avoid talking to them. It's just . . . wrong. I mean, 'avoid talking to them?' Really? She's going to tell me that when she and Dad are practically the ones who never say anything to me unless they have an actual reason to? It just feels wrong."

Feeling her frustration boiling up, Monika took a sip of espresso to soothe her emotions. "I told Mom just as much, and she just got even more irritated. She told me all of a sudden how she and Dad want me to come along on these kinds of meetings to let me get a feel of how the family business is. Learn the ropes, basically."

"Wait, so they want you to get involved in the business?" asked Kenta.

"I think so, though they seem to have a funny way of showing it. It's like they're pushing me headlong into it without asking me first. I mean, I've always had the idea that they'd want me to join them in the business, but I wish they took the time to actually talk to me about it. Then again, they've done that with a lot of things before in the past, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. When I do have something to say, they'll just walk all over it and tell me to just go along with what they want. Well, last night, I didn't want any of that."

A short silence fell. Monika took another sip from her cup, her eyes resting on the polished surface of the table before her. In her mind, she recalled what had happened, how her mother had stared at her with that utterly disapproving look on her beautiful face. In spite of her exasperation at what had happened, Monika had been struck the most by that look, so much so that she spent a good deal of the night contemplating about the argument as she lay awake on her bed.

Kenta fidgeted for a moment on the table, his opal eyes bearing a contemplative look. His macchiato remained untouched, Monika noticed.

"How about Takeo?" Kenta asked quietly. "Something happened with him too, right?"

Monika nodded, her temple throbbing once as she remembered the stress from earlier. "A problem with the budget for the nationals, to be exact. Takeo fears it'll set us back and maybe even stop us from finalizing our requirements in time. He told off a lot of our junior officers for it."

"Did they steal the money or something?"

"No. They just couldn't finalize where exactly the funds will be allotted, and we can't exactly start allotting unless we know exactly where the money's going to go. Our juniors were simply too caught up in festival preparations and other things to take care of it immediately. As always, Takeo says they're being too lax. Totally ridiculous, if you ask me. Our juniors are doing their best, I'm sure, but he doesn't believe it. He . . . He even suggested that they were trying to sabotage things on purpose to skip out on practice."

Kenta let out a gruff sigh. "Seriously, where is this guy even coming from with all this?" he snapped. "It's not your problem if he's always got a stick shoved up his—"

"I know," Monika interrupted, noticing the rising tone in Kenta's voice and wishing to defuse it early on. "It's totally demoralizing for the rest of the club when he goes on like that. When I stepped in and reminded him of his boundaries, that's when he . . ."

Kenta sat up straighter. "When he what? Monika, if he shouted at you or something, I'll—"

Monika waved her hand quickly. "No, it wasn't like that, okay?" And indeed it wasn't; the icy stare that Takeo gave her when she had stepped in to diffuse the situation was not volatile like what Kenta might be imagining, but it had the same edge that her mother's disapproval had the night before. She let out a helpless sigh. In spite of her frustration, she did not want to vent too much and cause Kenta to snap, knowing full well that his opinion of Takeo was shaky enough as it is. While she did not think Kenta would accost Takeo the following day, sharing the details of her earlier confrontation with Takeo with him may darken his mood, and it was the last thing she wanted now that Kenta was doing better.

_Kenta would want to know_, she mused to herself. Somehow, it reminded her of Sayori's hesitation with letting Akihiro know of the problems she was going through.

"He didn't shout or fight me or something, don't worry. He just . . . started questioning my leadership in front of the others."

Takeo's words rang almost unwarranted in her mind as she spoke. _Are you seriously going to keep on being the doting mother to everyone, Monika? Are you always going to answer irresponsibility with such niceties without any attempts at discipline? Are you truly going soft on us at such a crucial junction? _With these words, which Takeo had spoken in a chilly tone that matched the coldness in his eyes then, Monika's indignation had grown. Indeed, Takeo was right; she always chose to soften her seriousness with lenience, but only because she knew that any lapses made could be addressed without actively discouraging a club member by scolding him or her needlessly in front of the others. Takeo, on the other hand, had little patience for such an approach, and she had resented him many times before because of this, even more so after their most recent mishap. But she didn't dare give voice to her frustration in front of her fellow club members, not if she wanted to avoid a serious argument and create conflict on the road to the nationals.

"It's not that I don't like being questioned," Monika went on. "Even leaders make mistakes, and I've made my fair share of them. But I think it got to me a lot more than usual because . . . well, that thing with Mom already has me stressed out, and this just added fuel to the fire. And it's made worse by the fact that I couldn't say everything that I wanted to say about it. On both instances, I just . . . kept quiet, acknowledged the situation and went meekly. Granted, I managed to skip out on going to the business dinner with my parents, but it's hardly a win. In the next few days, they're just going to act like nothing happened, and I'll just fall back in line and go with the flow. I mean, that's how it's always been with them, and maybe even with Takeo and the debate club. I . . . I think it's involuntary at this point."

"What do you mean involuntary?"

"Like it's already ingrained in my system to just follow what people need me to do, and even if I want to deviate from that, I'd do it in the end regardless. It's like . . . like my choices don't matter."

As she uttered those last few words, Monika felt her hands grow limp. The truth of them struck her a lot more than she had expected. Perhaps it was because she had been coasting for so long on the comfort and joy of being with people like Kenta. Perhaps as she spent more time with him and people like Sayori, Akihiro and all the rest, she had been made to believe that her choices mattered, that she could deviate from the dull grey of her routine-based life and find some color in the world. Perhaps that was why these recent altercations with her mother and Takeo Kimura and the stress of the debate club stung so much. After all, when one floats on lofty heights, it can presage a painful fall back down to Earth.

Monika stood up, her eyes cast downward. "Excuse me. I need a moment," she uttered softly.

"Oh, s-sure, go right ahead," said Kenta.

With a grateful but fleeting smile, she turned from the table and made her way towards the nearby restroom. Dejection began suffusing her upset mood with an additional somber shade, and it was more than she could bear without standing up and going somewhere to ease her stress.

In the restroom, she walked over to the mirrors, gazing at her reflection as she leaned on the marble sinks, her palms stinging against the cold surface. Other patrons would come and go, passing her by to go into the nearby stalls or wash their hands on the neighboring sinks. Monika, however, remained where she stood, staring deep into her own eyes, letting her gloom run its course in silence. Nothing was out of place except the telltale signs of tiredness on her visage, slivers leaking through the cracks of a mask. As her own face stared back at her, it looked as if she was gazing out of a hole, from a landscape where she was alone and trapped.

The thoughts that ran through her head, the emotions she was feeling, they were all both jarring and miserably familiar, Monika knew. She was no stranger to having sleepless nights in the past, wishfully thinking about the other things in life that lay beyond her grasp. It had colored the poems she had made in the past, fueled her fingers as she played the piano alone at her house, and even inspired her to write that song she had played for Kenta long ago. It made her yearn for freedom, freedom beyond the mundane veil of her everyday life. And for a while, as she took those first brave steps with Kenta and their common friends, Monika believed that this horizon of liberty was a lot closer than she had expected.

And then the truth was there like a splash of cold water to the face, waking her up to realities that she thought she had already moved on from.

Monika sighed, looking away from her reflection. Kenta was waiting, she knew, and as dejected as she felt, she did not want him to go home feeling the same.

By the time they had finished their beverages and their sandwich, night had already fallen. Monika was soon anticipating with mounting heaviness the arrival of Mr. Fujita in the family car to pick her up, ready to give her that reality check that had punctuated her moments of bliss many times before. Kenta made no move to ask questions about what she had shared to him earlier, but the concern and conflict was plain to read on his face. Monika did not want to discourage him from asking something that she would be able to reply to, but Kenta seemed keen on avoiding the topic for her sake, and instead he had asked her random things about the festival and the next get-together they would be having with the rest of their friends. With a faint glimmer of hope, Monika looked forward to the respite and comfort of being with Sayori and the rest soon on another casual outing, though the weight of the upcoming nationals still hung over her head waiting to water down her joy.

The cold night air caressed their faces with its sting as they exited the bistro to wait for Mr. Fujita to arrive. Many times before, the two of them had ended their evening excursions in such ways, but none as potentially subdued as this time around. Kenta kept glancing sideways at her, always holding back whenever he'd open his mouth in an attempt to speak before she would go home.

When Monika locked eyes with him as he glanced again, she smiled and reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his in a gentle clasp.

"I'll be fine, Kenta."

Beneath Kenta's opal gaze, conflict kept warring. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Just one of those days. It'll pass, okay?" And yet as she said those words, Monika wondered privately for just how long it'll be before things do pass. Not knowing what else to say, she gave Kenta's hand a reassuring squeeze, and felt slightly more hopeful from the warmth.

The family car arrived not long after their brief exchange, pulling up carefully alongside the sidewalk to line up perfectly with them. Monika made to walk towards the back door, turning back to Kenta to say goodbye, but she stopped short as the door opened all of a sudden.

Even on what Monika knew was an ordinary evening, her mother still looked as sophisticated as ever. She climbed out of the car with both purpose and grace, her high heels clicking as they touched down on the pavement. The deep red dress she was wearing was topped by a long black coat, making her look like she was on her way to another business dinner.

Before Monika could speak, her mother looked at her and nodded towards the car. "Get in," she told her curtly before turning her gaze upon Kenta, who looked equally astounded at her sudden arrival.

"Mom—" Monika began, but her mother cut across her.

"In the car, Monika. Please."

With reluctance and puzzlement bordering on worry, Monika climbed in the car, looking back over her shoulder as her mother walked over to Kenta. Standing up straighter, Kenta stood his ground, though his face bore the same apprehension that Monika felt as her mother stood before him. From where she sat in the car, Monika could tell that her mother was speaking to Kenta, though the distance coupled with the ambient noises in the vicinity made it difficult to figure out what she was saying.

"Miss Monika? Is everything fine?" said Mr. Fujita from the driver's seat.

Monika hung back, hesitating, her hand still on the car door. Part of her wanted to get out of the car and ask her mother what exactly she was up to, but she knew that such a move might exacerbate whatever was happening right now. All around them, people merely kept walking by, not even glancing at her mother or Kenta. Monika took that as a sign that perhaps what she was seeing was no argument in the making, though where her mother was concerned, it could be anything.

Slowly, silently, she closed the car door. "Everything's fine, Mr. Fujita," she replied at last, smiling at the old driver in an effort to hide her worry. "May I ask why Mom is with you?"

"She'll be meeting a few of her friends down at the posh restaurant by the city hall," Mr. Fujita replied. "When she found out that I was going to pick you up here, she asked if I could drop her off along the way."

"I see." Monika glanced again outside the car's windows at Kenta and her mother. "Was she . . . was she angry or something?"

"I don't think so," said Mr. Fujita. "She seemed right as rain throughout the trip."

_Until she saw Kenta standing there with me, _Monika guessed.

After a minute of waiting and watching, her mother returned to the car, taking her place at the passenger seat in complete silence. Monika quickly looked back at Kenta, checking to see if he had taken any sort of verbal beating. Kenta, however, merely smiled and saluted in farewell, betraying no hints as to what he might have heard firsthand. All Monika could do was smile and wave back as their car slowly rejoined traffic and drove down the street. She turned in her seat, watching Kenta's figure shrink in the distance as he walked home.

At last, she turned to her mother. With some relief, she managed to steady her voice, as she asked, "Mom, what was that back there? What did you talk to Kenta about?"

Her mother kept her eyes on the road. "I told him a few things," she replied curtly.

"And what things are those, exactly?" asked Monika tentatively.

"Nothing too harsh, I assure you. I just wanted him to know his place."

Monika stared at the back of her mother's head, aghast at how self-contradictory the reply sounded. "'Know his place?' What does that even mean?"

Her mother craned her neck, giving her the smallest of glances. "We'll discuss this some other time, Monika. I need to be somewhere, and you need to be at home. Your father will be waiting for you to arrive before dinner."

"I'm not hungry." Monika sat back, indignation coursing through her. Seemingly content with her surrender, her mother sat up straighter and returned her gaze upon the road. This time, Mr. Fujita was the one who glanced back, and Monika felt her frustration ease as she saw the concern in the old man's eyes.

Back home, her father met her with the same casual cordiality that he always showed everyone, oblivious to the argument that almost happened earlier. Monika greeted him routinely and went upstairs, not intending to stick around during an awkward dinner filled with questions and clarifications about what happened last night. Luckily, her father was soon made busy with a phone call from a business associate, and Monika managed to quickly retreat into her room undisturbed. After getting dressed in a flash, she sat down on her bed and took a look at her phone.

Kenta had sent her only a single text, but its length gave her some form of reassurance. "_hey there. i hope ur ok. don't worry, i'm fine too. ur mom didn't say anything too harsh, tho i'm not gonna lie, her stare was pretty scary lol. anyway, take care of urself, alright? don't let ur mom or ur dolt VP get 2 ya too much. whatever's got them riled up, it'll pass, and things will be back 2 normal b4 u know it_ :) _see ya around!_"

In spite of her own doubts and concern, Monika had to smile at the candid cordiality of Kenta's message. It made her appreciate him even more, and regret that she practically fled from him earlier to find respite from her dejection.

"_i hope that is indeed the case for the next few days. here's to hoping the festival will help me recover from all this. you take care too, okay? see you at school, and thank you for everything_ :)"

Sending her reply, Monika let out a sigh and looked around, her eyes resting on her reflection in the nearby mirror that hung next to her bed. Tomorrow was going to be another day; another day to put on a brave face and keep fighting, to make sure that everything was okay, or if that was not possible, to at least pretend that everything was okay. Such was the struggle of the leader, the princess who wanted out, the doting mother who wanted to both understand and be understood.

Monika stood up and walked over to her desk opposite the bed, taking out the notebook in which she often wrote her poetry from her schoolbag. So many feelings and thoughts were coursing through her that it felt just right to finally settle down and let them out through writing. Nowadays, the only papers and words she often saw and made were the ones related to the debate club—notes to be corrected, forms to be signed, and other such things. This time, she wanted to write what she wanted, if only to make her feel grounded again and distract her from the worry of the next few days. Her pen at the ready, like the keys of a piano beneath her fingertips, she began to think—and feel.

It was around nine o'clock by the time she finished her poem. As she stared at the words she had written, Monika wondered if her writing style had changed without her knowing it, owing to her mood nowadays and the experiences that had influenced it.

_"It couldn't have been me._

_See, the direction the spackle protrudes._

_A noisy neighbor? An angry boyfriend? I'll never know. I wasn't home._

_I peer inside for a clue._

_No! I can't see. I reel, blind, like a film left out in the sun._

_But it's too late. My retinas._

_Already scorched with a permanent copy of the meaningless image._

_It's just a little hole. It wasn't too bright._

_It was too deep._

_Stretching forever into everything._

_A hole of infinite choices._

_I realize now, that I wasn't looking in._

_I was looking out._

_And he, on the other side, was looking in."_

Monika knew the imagery hearkened back to her thoughts at the _Cocoa Connection_'s restroom, when she stared at her own face in the mirror and found herself thinking that she was staring out of a gaping hole to another reality, a hole leading to the infinite choices that she had believed in. When she had begun looking for the right voice in which to convey her sentiments, she found herself laughing and shaking her head as she wondered if she was merely feeling overly dramatic about the hands she was being dealt nowadays at school and at home—the typical pangs of a teenager in high school. But the more Monika wrote, the more she knew she was burdened, more burdened than she wanted to let on. Reading through the words again, they sounded true to the turmoil she felt, the pressure and loneliness she felt in being trapped. Monika wanted to put in some references to her mother—she had put Takeo in as both the "noisy neighbor" and, almost grudgingly, the "angry boyfriend"—but instead she found herself avoiding the thought of her lest her frustration return to cloud her thoughts.

As always, though, Monika wanted to look at the brighter side of things, and thus her poem ended on the hopeful note brought by "he." She pondered on whether she would show Kenta this particular poem or not, partly to make up for leaving him alone at the table in confusion and worry and for the embarrassment he undoubtedly felt at her mother's sudden presence. Either way, whatever she would end up choosing to do, she felt immensely grateful once again for the comfort he always brought her, and found herself wishing that the next time they met, it would be on a happier note.

* * *

Kenta stared at the ceiling of his room, enduring the silence in solitude. He wanted to text, to call, to check and see if Monika was still awake. However, the clock flashing at half an hour past eleven dampened his resolve. Monika would be asleep by now, and after the particularly stressful day she had endured, Kenta was reluctant to take up any more of her time. Still, the lies he had told her through text was starting to bother him, and he began to wonder if he was digging himself a hole by letting them stand. Again and again, for the past hour he typed out various messages of admission, but he always ended up deleting them before he could get the courage to actually send them.

Mrs. Steinbeck made her intentions crystal clear when she stared him down in front of the _Cocoa Connection_. Kenta had expected her to berate him for taking Monika out with her permission, but instead Mrs. Steinbeck took another approach to express her thinly veiled disapproval of him.

_Mr. Yamaguchi, I know that you and my daughter are seeing each other. While I wouldn't normally mind that too much, I've noticed that she's starting to become a bit more . . . rebellious than normal. I've seen that for myself recently, and even heard it from some of her schoolmates. Now, now, before you say anything, please let me finish. Monika has a bright future ahead of her, and we are doing everything we can to make sure it stays that way. I trust that she told you about our move to Osaka, so it should be obvious how important our plans are for her. We do not want her to be distracted from that, or from the national debate competition she will be attending this January. If it's not too much to ask, please steer clear of her. She needs to refocus on her priorities, and I'm sure that you want what is best for her, too. I will be talking to her about this as well. Thank you._

That Mrs. Steinbeck did not even wait for him to reply or say anything told Kenta enough. He had wanted to speak out, to get in a word edgewise, but standing face to face with Monika's mother is not as easy as staring down Takeo Kimura or any other rival he would ever face. After all, what good would an argument in public do except to exacerbate the situation and potentially take Monika away from him for good? Then again, with the precarious situation he was in, Kenta was already feeling the walls close in around him.

The lie would have to endure for now, he knew. Apologizing to Monika in his mind, he sighed and turned around, closing his eyes as he waited for sleep to overtake him.


	52. Chapter 52 - Colors and Confections

**CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO – COLORS AND CONFECTIONS (NatSuke)**

Natsuki glossed over the ingredients and materials on the countertop one more time, going over each one individually in her mind and checking to see if anything was forgotten. Granted, it was her third time in a row doing so, but it helped put her own worries in check and kept the growing flush on her face at bay. The fact that she was alone for now did not help ease her mind in the slightest—Daisuke would be returning any minute now from his errand, she knew. Lost in her fear and worry, her stomach had tied itself into a Gordian knot, ready to be cut by any small mistake she would make and send her spiraling into a pit of shame and despair.

That Mrs. Matsuda would be gracious enough to let the two of them bake in the kitchen of her diner was already a given, but still, Natsuki felt like she was taking up too much of their hospitality this time around. She felt even more embarrassed when she had turned down Mrs. Matsuda's offer of help in their baking. As cordial as Mrs. Matsuda was, Natsuki still felt highly reluctant to bake in the presence of a skilled home cook like her, but refusing her help seemed like an even worse slight on her part. Thankfully, Daisuke had backed her up by explaining to his mother that they would be able to manage well enough on their own. To Natsuki's surprise, Mrs. Matsuda let them be. Though Mrs. Matsuda's stated reason for doing so was that she would be meeting a friend and running a trip to the grocery store afterwards, Natsuki could not help but wonder if Daisuke explained more than a few things to his mother beforehand to influence her decision.

After making sure that every ingredient and baking apparatus was accounted for, Natsuki checked her phone for the time. They had a maximum of five hours to get everything done—the prepping, baking and cleaning up. Natsuki nodded to herself, making sure not to get distracted too much lest she spent much of her time lagging behind their schedule and risk derailing the operation. But even more importantly, she knew that she needed to get home before she ended up running into—

The sound of a door opening made her jump, startling her out of her train of thought. She whirled around quickly, heaving a sigh of relief when she saw Daisuke walking towards her, all smiles. Though he was wearing a simple green shirt with some denim shorts, he was still as handsome as ever in Natsuki's eyes.

"Everything good?" he asked her.

"Y-Yeah, everything's here," said Natsuki. She looked around the kitchen for a moment. "Are you sure we're all alone now?"

"Yeah, the coast is clear. Mom just left."

"Okay, good." Natsuki took off her face mask and exhaled, feeling the coldness of the air dry up the sweat on her cheeks.

"Your bruises are definitely looking better," Daisuke observed.

"Good thing, too. The mask's starting to make my face itch."

As the two of them began setting aside bowls and opening up bags of flour and sugar, Natsuki reached into her backpack, which sat next to a nearby counter, and pulled out two aprons. One of them was her favorite pink one, with frilly edges and the face of a handstitched cat on the front. The other was a rolled up red one.

"Wear this," she said, handing the apron to Daisuke.

"But I can get my own," said Daisuke.

"Hey, if you want to be my assistant, you have to follow _my _rules, okay? And the rules say you should wear this. Otherwise, no baking for you."

Daisuke took the apron from her and unfurled it. "Hearts on the pockets?" he sheepishly, indicating the heart patches that were stitched on the apron's three pockets. "Really, Natsuki?"

"What? Are hearts too girly for your taste?" Natsuki taunted jokingly back.

"Not really," he said, trying the apron on nonetheless. The hem of it reached only just below his waist. "This is your apron, right?"

"Of course it is."

"Figures. Only someone as small as you would be able to wear this properly," Daisuke shot back furtively.

"Hey, I heard that!" Natsuki snapped. She took hold of a nearby rolling pin and brandished it warningly, prompting Daisuke to scramble backwards behind a counter for protection.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he cried out, laughing. "It's just really small, that's all!"

"And by that, you mean I'm really small too!"

"Hey, don't worry about it! I'm gonna wear it all the same. And besides, there's nothing wrong with being small. Small is cute, y'know?"

"S-Shut up, dummy!" Natsuki set the rolling pin down in a huff, turning away as her cheeks started flushing. "Jeez, let's just start baking already!"

"Alright, alright," Daisuke laughed.

Because only three cupcake trays could fit at a time in the diner's oven, Natsuki knew it would be a slow but steady process to reach a hundred cupcakes, with another dozen thrown in last as a thank-you present for Mrs. Matsuda's benevolence. Focusing on her groove instead of her personal worries, she began measuring the necessary amount of sugar, flour and salt they would need. Daisuke, meanwhile, set about preparing the eggs and butter, whisking the eggs in a bowl and cutting up the butter into the right sizes for quicker softening. After around fifteen minutes of this, Natsuki stood back to gauge their ingredients again.

"I think we should start with the chocolate and vanilla ones," she remarked.

"Why not the tougher ones first, strawberry and orange cream?" asked Daisuke. "That way, it'll be easy coasting at the end."

"The ordinary flavored ones will keep better for longer. The strawberry and orange cream ones will have fresh ingredients in them, so it'll be better off if they're the last ones in the oven. Gives them more time to last until we bring them to school."

"Oh, okay. How about the frosting and filling? You said that we can't apply that until at least the day before the festival, right?"

"Yeah. If we put that on today, chances are the cupcakes will become really soggy by Monday. I'll tear the school down before I serve anyone a soggy cupcake."

"Ooh, I see. Point taken."

With that, Daisuke resumed working on his part of the baking process. Natsuki refocused herself as well, knowing that the time to cut up strawberries and grate orange zest would come later. That was the part that worried and excited her most, even more so than putting in some filling and applying frosting on the finished cupcakes tomorrow. The strawberry and orange cream cupcakes would pose the greatest trial yet in their hundred-cupcake spree for the festival, but it was also the part that made her even more determined to succeed in spite of her doubts. After all, the sweetest victories come after the harshest challenges, and while Natsuki's worry may still give her reservations, she always loved the rush of contentment and joy after taking down a particularly difficult challenge, just like she liked seeing the praise and smiles from people who tasted her handiwork, though she was content with basking in such delight in secret.

Though working with someone else still took getting used to for Natsuki, Daisuke soon proved himself to be a quiet but dutiful assistant. Natsuki had held back on giving him too many pointers for the baking, as she still secretly did not want his inexperience to mess anything up, but she noticed how quickly he had picked up on what she did teach him. He moved quickly and efficiently, measuring and whisking and occasionally asking her if the cupcake batter he was mixing had the proper consistency. It flattered Natsuki that even if Daisuke was working semi-independently, he still remembered to check on her opinion if he was doing the right thing, though Natsuki could only give blunt approval and suggestions as she was busy working on her own cupcake batter. For the most part, only silence prevailed.

As the nearby oven began heating up to its desired temperature, the two of them managed to finish their cupcake batter. They had started pouring it in the trays when Natsuki stopped. "Did you buy some extra butter for the frosting?" she asked Daisuke seriously.

"Uh, yeah," replied Daisuke, looking puzzled. "It's over there melting, just like you wanted."

"I-I see. How about sugar? And the milk!"

"Both accounted for." Daisuke frowned. "Natsuki, everything's here. You made sure of that."

"I know, I j-just . . ." Natsuki set down the bowl of batter and rubbed her temple with her free hand. "I just thought that we . . . y'know, messed up or something. . ."

"Well, with someone like you on board for this, I doubt we'd mess up."

"Hey, I'm just checking, okay?" _Never mind the hundred and fourteen times I checked everything earlier, I guess. _Natsuki had to wonder why she was starting to speak up all of a sudden. Perhaps the relative quietness in which they worked in was starting to get to her, marring her focus and causing her to look for something to say. Daisuke seemed so intent on working that he appeared to be actually ignoring her. Natsuki shook her head, clearing her mind as she began looking for topics to discuss in the meantime.

"So what're your plans after the festival?" she asked after a while.

"Well, I figured I'd hang around school for a while, go booth-hopping with the rest of the guys," said Daisuke as he scooped up some more batter for the last few empty cups on the tray. "How about you?"

"W-Well . . . I was kinda hoping that . . ."

"Oh, do you wanna come along with us?"

"N-No! I mean, not if I'm just gonna be the odd girl out. If you wanna go along with your friends, it's f-fine."

"But what about you?"

"I'm fine with anything, I just d-don't wanna go home too early."

A short pause ensued. Daisuke looked up at her, setting aside the now-empty bowl of cupcake batter. "Is your dad acting up again?" he asked.

"No. N-Not yet, at least. It's just . . ."

Natsuki balked, looking away for a moment as she remembered her thoughts earlier before she was interrupted in her thinking. As of late, her father was not only bringing women home from the sleazy bars downtown during evenings. A number of male strangers had started showing up at their household as well, sometimes numbering up to four every other night, drinking and making merry with her father. Once, Natsuki had dared to sneak downstairs to catch a glimpse of them, and while they resembled nothing more than average working men hanging out at a coworker's abode, she was more apprehensive of them than she was of the scantily clad women that she often saw before. For one thing, her father was still unemployed, so she wondered who exactly these men were or how her father even met them in the first place. Either way, she was thankful for the reprieve she had in being away from her house for a good part of the day, though she was also worried that she might come home later just to run into him and those men drinking in the living room.

Once she and Daisuke had placed the first batch of cupcakes in the oven, she decided to tell him everything. Daisuke listened to her closely, his amber eyes regarding her with utter seriousness. Natsuki could tell that he was starting to become alert and suspicious at this new development.

"Why do you think they're there?" asked Daisuke after she had finished.

"I don't think I want to know. And I definitely don't want them snooping around the house while I'm there. Dad doesn't let them go upstairs, so I guess that's a good thing."

"I still don't trust them. Or him. Do you think if you stay out a bit late, he'll notice?"

"Yeah. If he knows I came home late, he'll wait for them to leave b-before . . . you know."

Daisuke sighed as he poured some flour into a new bowl. "Can't you just . . . you know, live with your aunt? I know I asked this before, but there's gotta be a way—"

"No," said Natsuki in a firm tone. "If there was a way, I would've taken it, okay? Besides, I don't think Dad should be left alone n-nowadays. Who knows what he might do?"

"Run into trouble out on the streets while he's drunk? Heh, that'd be rich," Daisuke muttered darkly.

Natsuki sighed. "Alright, let's just talk about something else."

But instead of shifting to a new topic to discuss, the next hour was steeped in silence, broken only by the sound of whisks scratching against bowls and the clatter of new trays being put in the oven as the first batch of cupcakes were done. Occasionally, small talk would rise, but it never took off beyond a few exchanges. Natsuki expected Daisuke to prod her about her father's visitors, or at least reiterate to her the prospect of moving out to safer spaces, but Daisuke said nothing more of the matter.

As time passed, Natsuki began to worry in the stillness once again. Try as she might to focus on mixing up the last batch of batter they needed for the chocolate and vanilla cupcakes, she could not stop her thoughts from wandering back to her father at home. A slight chill crept up her back inexplicably, as if she was anticipating something ominous to happen at any time. Gingerly, she sifted the last of her chocolate batter onto the cupcake tray in front of her, set down the bowl, and wiped her hands on the apron. Only then did she notice how her fingers felt cold as well.

Daisuke's voice startled her temporarily. "Are we gonna start the strawberry creams first, or the orange creams?" he asked.

Natsuki rubbed her eyes wearily. _Focus, darn it. _"O-Orange creams. Let's start with the orange creams. I'm gonna start working on the orange mix. You start mixing the butter, cream and sugar."

Daisuke obeyed without protest, but Natsuki could feel his amber gaze upon her. "Natsuki, is everything okay?" he asked after a brief pause.

"Peachy. I just wanna take care of this before our time runs out. Can I borrow your grater for the orange zest?"

"Oh, sure thing. It's right over there."

As Natsuki settled down to start grating an orange for their cupcakes, her fingers slowly began feeling better. _That's it. Focus, Natsuki. Just do what you need to do. _The anxiety she was feeling was starting to ease slightly, and she clung to the relief with all her might. To her, it felt that as long as she managed to finish her baking for the day, she would finally have one less thing to worry about.

Daisuke struck up a new conversation as she was mixing the dry ingredients together. "Funny thing, this reminds me of that one scene in _Parfait Girls_."

"Which one?"

"The one where Yukari lost a bet and was made to teach Tomo how to make satch . . . sash-re . . . how do you pronounce that?"

Without missing a beat, Natsuki stated, "Sachertorte?"

"Yeah, that one," said Daisuke, laughing. "Are you familiar with how that's baked?"

"A little. I haven't really tried baking an entire cake yet."

"You should give it a try. And other pastries, too. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I kinda feel like Tomo right now. Noobish, but learning—and learning from the best, too."

Natsuki snorted. "Are you trying to flatter me or something?"

"Well, I _am _learning from the best at the moment. Between the two of us, you're an ace in baking, Natsuki. Just like Yukari.

"Are you sure it's not because Yukari and I are both _tsunderes _and all that? Jerk."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. Yukari's an extremely nuanced character! I mean, she's not just a _tsunderes _for laughs, right?"

"Heh. If you ask me, your real favorite is Kanae. Tall, pretty, silent, and _really _curvy for a teenager," Natsuki scoffed. "She's the type that guys always go after anyway, judging from the stuff I've seen online."

Daisuke stared at her for a moment. "Okay, first off, it'd be weird for me to fanboy over an anime girl who has the same name as Kenta's sister and . . . who also remarkably reminds me of Yuri, now that I stop to think about it."

"Oho, what's this?" asked Natsuki. "Do you secretly have eyes for Yuri? Is that it?"

"What? Of course not!" exclaimed Daisuke, and Natsuki had to laugh at the mixed look of repulsion and amusement on his face. "As a group, we do follow a bro code, alright? And also, guys don't always go for looks or body type, whether in anime or in real life. We like personality and character development, too. Besides, why do people think guys always go for tall girls with curves? Is that what you think?"

"Well, I've seen my fair share of guys who are like that. They don't go for the smaller girls. I mean, it's not my fault I don't have a mature and sexy figure like Yuri does, and—"

As she noticed her own words, however, Natsuki stopped dead in her tracks, her cheeks instantly turning pink. As she glanced at Daisuke again, she saw his lips curved in a slight smirk.

"What was that?" he asked her in an amused tone.

"It's nothing!" Natsuki snapped. "Forget it!"

"Hey, it's okay," said Daisuke, his laugh belying his tone of reassurance and irking Natsuki further. "I think I get where you're coming from right now."

"Oh yeah? You sure about that? Or do you just wanna keep laughing?"

"No, really, I get it!" Daisuke coughed a few times, trying not to laugh. When he managed to calm his amusement down, he spoke in a more sincere tone. "I mean, with the way you said it and all . . . that's what you went through in the past, right? You had people just brush you aside and treat you like a kid, and that's partly because of how you looked, correct? Like, with your body type and everything."

Natsuki felt her face turning red now. Memories floated back to her, bringing tales of former crushes and the feeling of watching them go out with taller girls with more mature figures every single time. "Y-Yeah, what about it?" she asked testily.

"Well, I think you just need to remember that just because you're not like other girls, it doesn't mean you're not someone's cup of tea. I'm sure there are a lot of guys out there who are into girls like you."

"W-What? Seriously? How would you e-even know that, anyway?" asked Natsuki, narrowing her eyes.

Daisuke stared at her for a moment. Natsuki saw his cheeks turn pink. "Just trust me on this one," was all he said, his words accentuated by a smile. Even then, it took Natsuki only a few moments to know exactly what he was trying to say.

". . . Gross," she hissed, looking away.

"Hey! Was that to me?" asked Daisuke, looking startled.

"Who else?" Natsuki snapped back.

Daisuke let out a resigned sigh. "I can't win. Let's just continue baking."

Natsuki laughed, glancing back at him in partial triumph in spite of her own discomfiture at his previous words. "Did I finally find your weakness? Being called gross by a girl?"

"That, and getting socked in the arm a hundred times," Daisuke muttered.

With that, work resumed. The next couple of hours saw the two of them working together in less silence as more quips, topics and instructions were exchanged. The previous batches of baked cupcakes were stored in plastic containers and set aside to wait for the unfinished ones. The strawberry and orange cream cupcakes took up more time than they had initially anticipated, with the orange zest and strawberry pieces being measured just right so that the orange cream cupcakes would not end up having too much tang, and the strawberry cream ones would not end up too lumpy. It was only during this moment, tasting and measuring and adjusting, did the two of them work in coordinated silence once again. As she placed some diced strawberries in the pink cupcake batter, Natsuki looked up at Daisuke, who was carefully scooping more orange cupcake batter into the next batch of pans. When he caught her eye again, he smiled, and Natsuki could not help but smile back. As much as she felt embarrassed and irked by the things he often said about her, she greatly appreciated the fact that Daisuke was obviously doing so to make her feel better right now, and distract her from the worry and dread she felt about her father's visitors.

It was almost four in the afternoon when the two of them finished putting in the last batch of cupcakes in the oven, including the dozen that made up Natsuki's thank-you gift for Mrs. Matsuda. With the end almost in sight, Natsuki heaved a sigh of relief as she readied herself to make the filling and frosting in the next hour—just enough time to wrap everything up. Because they needed to have all the cupcakes filled and frosted by the following evening, right before the day of the festival, Natsuki wanted to make sure that everything was ready by the time she dropped by again the next day for the finishing touches. For now, they would be storing the filling and frosting in plastic containers to be kept in the refrigerator alongside the cupcakes themselves, keeping only one batch of frosting to start decorating the cupcakes that Natsuki would be giving to Mrs. Matsuda.

"You know, I pitched this idea to Kenta about our next get-together," Daisuke said as he pureed some strawberries for their strawberry cream frosting. "Like, instead of hanging out around here, what if we took a train to Tokyo? Get lost in the big city for a day, away from school and all that. The others, they can go where they want, but nothing's gonna stop me from going to Akihabara with you."

"Now that's something I can definitely get behind," said Natsuki with a wishful sigh. Akihabara was the Mecca of anime, a must-see stop for any _otaku_, Japanese or foreign, in the world. Even in the bleak life she had in Eishima, Natsuki had always envisioned visiting the district in the future one way or another, and she could never stop browsing through articles about the goings-on there as well as the various stores and venues that would make any anime and manga lover's list.

Daisuke smiled. "We'll go there one day, Natsuki. I promise you that."

"And then you'll leave me to wander while you go out looking for maid cafés?" Natsuki quipped.

"Well, you can go to a butler café in the meantime if that's what you want," Daisuke joked back.

Natsuki scoffed, setting aside her spatula as she finished mixing her batch of cream cheese frosting. "Why am I gonna do that when I already have a handsome, supportive 'butler' like you?"

Daisuke's eyes widened. Once again, his face turned pink as he stammered, "W-What? That's, er . . . I mean . . ."

"Hah!" Natsuki crowed. "Now you know how I feel when you say weird, mushy things to me!"

Daisuke sighed, scratching his head. "Alright, alright. Touché," he said, laughing embarrassedly.

"That's what you get, dummy," said Natsuki, chuckling victoriously, though she could not stop herself from blushing a little as she imagined Daisuke in a butler's uniform, looking impeccably dashing.

"But seriously, I really wanna take you to Akihabara," Daisuke went on, putting the strawberry puree into the frosting mixture and mixing away. "I might just start saving up for both of us. Hopefully, by summer vacation we'll be able to make the trip there along with Kenta, Monika and the others."

"Hey, you don't have to save up for me, alright?" said Natsuki reproachfully. "You're already doing a lot for me."

"Well, I hope I can do a lot more, to be honest," said Daisuke in return.

"I know, but y-you don't have to, okay?"

"Maybe, but I still want to." Daisuke grinned. Natsuki shook her head, breath hissing through her nostrils as she let out a sigh.

Her eyes fell on the frosting mixture that Daisuke was working on. "Hey, you're not mixing that hard enough. The frosting's still all lumpy. I can see it from here."

"Is it?" Daisuke glanced down at the bowl. "Yeah, I think you're right. I'm sorry, my arm's just tired from all the whisking and mixing and stuff. This is what happens when you don't have an electric mixer."

"I understand, but we'll be here all night if you do it like that," Natsuki pointed out. "Give it here."

When Daisuke gave her the whisk and the bowl, Natsuki titled the bowl back a little and began mixing furiously, the whisk clattering and scratching against the bowl's surface. "You . . . really need to . . . beat the _crap _out of it!" she grumbled, her voice straining as she picked up speed with her mixing. Within a few seconds, the mixture's consistency improved, with the lumps vanishing to form the fluffier texture ideal for pastry frosting. Natsuki nodded as she slowed down her pace.

"That's how you do it, rookie," she said proudly.

"Well, with strong arms like that, it should be easy for you," said Daisuke, laughing.

The last batches of frosting—chocolate and cream—took less time for the two of them to make. Natsuki had insisted on adding different splashes of food coloring to the cream frosting in order to make everything more decorative and pleasing to the eyes. Apart from that, chocolate chips and multicolored sprinkles would add even more flair to the vanilla and chocolate cupcakes, making them stand out just as much as the strawberry and orange cream ones. It was the part of baking that Natsuki always looked forward to, and she could not help but emphasize the importance of such artful decorating to Daisuke as they finished the last batches of cream frosting. By then, the last of the cupcakes were done, and the two of them set them aside for cooling before they would be stored away in the refrigerator, separating the ones that made up Natsuki's thank-you present. In the meantime, Natsuki decided that it was a good time to start cleaning up, and soon she was helping Daisuke wipe the countertops clean of any flour stains and batter drippings, and heave every used utensil and bowl towards the kitchen sink for later washing.

When everything had been piled onto the sink, Natsuki eagerly shifted to her penultimate duty for the day. She took the tray bearing Mrs. Matsuda's twelve cupcakes, setting it down next to some small bowls of blue, pink, green and purple frosting. Next to her, Daisuke prepped the piping bags and the various decorative nozzles that they would be using, as well as a small bowl of chocolate chips, chocolate shavings and sprinkles.

"Alright, now's the time to let your creativity flow," said Natsuki when everything was ready. "If you're gonna help me with the decorating tomorrow, you may as well start by practicing with these cupcakes. I'll take one half, you take the other half. Deal?"

"Deal." Daisuke handed one of the piping bags to her. "Happy decorating," he added with a grin.

For her own batch of cupcakes, Natsuki decided to go with pink and blue in various swirls for a test run of what she would be making for tomorrow's final decorations. She piped the first batch of frosting on top of a vanilla cupcake with a round nozzle, intending to decorate it and the others later on with chocolate chips and shavings in the same manner as she did with the cupcakes he had baked for Daisuke long ago. She bounced between nozzles, going for a different piped design with each cupcake, going at it with gentle precision brought by experience. As she piped, she cast a glance at Daisuke's handiwork, checking to see if he was emulating her. Indeed, Daisuke seemed to be following her lead, decorating each cupcake with a different pattern of frosting as he used various nozzles, and Natsuki knew that he was putting his talent in drawing to use. One vanilla cupcake already had tiny globs of piped green frosting from a closed star nozzle, with some pink frosting from a thin nozzle drizzled on top. A chocolate one was decorated with a crisscross pattern of both green and blue icing from a rose nozzle. Natsuki nodded approvingly at his take before going back to focus on her own. In no time at all, faces and patterns began appearing on the cupcakes—a cat with white chocolate ears, a chocolate chip smiling face, and a flower made out of milk chocolate shavings and dotted with sprinkles to name a few.

When everything was finally done, Natsuki stood back to admire their handiwork, feeling content and delighted. The cupcakes looked nothing short of amazing, turning out even better than the test ones she had given to Naoki and Yuri. Given that those cupcakes had been made with only a few ingredients and decorations and were still received with collective praise, Natsuki could only imagine what the reactions to their handiwork would be come Monday.

"I hope your mom likes them," she told Daisuke.

"Are you kidding? She'll _love _them!" Daisuke commented. "I mean, put these in a box and they can pass for bakeshop quality. At least, _your _cupcakes can."

"Hey, yours look good too, okay? You did a pretty good job for a noob."

Daisuke laughed. "Like I said. Learning from the best."

"If I make it out alive in ten years and create my own bakeshop, maybe I can take you in as an assistant," Natsuki joked. Even so, her face flushed as the image of Daisuke being a handsome butler flashed once again in her mind.

"That'd be a great honor, but I think I'm underqualified for that kind of work," said Daisuke facetiously.

Natsuki scoffed, shaking her head. "A lot can happen in ten years. Who knows? Maybe you'll get even better at this." _And maybe things will get better, too. We'll go to Akihabara, have ourselves a wonderful time, and I'll come home with no worries whatsoever. _A wistful melancholy filled Natsuki as she dwelt on these thoughts. She glanced at Daisuke, at his handsome, good-natured face and his wavy blonde hair and the red apron with hearts that he wore over his clothes, and she knew that she could never thank him enough for making her feel better and giving her hope in spite of her own doubts about the world and herself.

Mrs. Matsuda returned from her day out not long after the two of them had finished washing up and storing away the bowls, utensils and other baking paraphernalia that they had been using. Natsuki quickly put on her face mask the moment she heard her enter the diner, while Daisuke hurried forward to shield her from view in case his mother went in quickly.

Mrs. Matsuda beamed at them as she entered the kitchen, placing some bags of groceries on the nearest countertop. "So how did it go?" she asked.

"See for yourself," said Daisuke, grinning and nodding towards the cupcakes, which were now arranged neatly on top of a large plate.

"My, my!" Mrs. Matsuda walked over to the countertop, her eyes lighting up as they rested upon the cupcakes. "These look even better than the ones before!"

"Thank you, ma'am," said Natsuki with a grateful bow. "Couldn't have done it without Daisuke here, though. He turned out to be an even better assistant than I'd imagined."

"I'm glad to hear that," Mrs. Matsuda tittered genially. "Daisuke's full of surprises."

"He sure is, ma'am," said Natsuki, looking over at Daisuke and causing him to blush a little.

"Well, after all that baking and decorating, all I wanna know right now is what our handiwork tastes like," said Daisuke, moving forward next to his mother as he stared down at the cupcakes. "Shall we?"

"Don't mind if I do," said his mother, who quickly picked out a pink-frosted chocolate cupcake. Daisuke followed suit, and Natsuki watched with both nervousness and excitement as she hung back to watch the two of them eat.

"Perfect. Absolutely divine," Mrs. Matsuda simpered, wiping the corners of her mouth with her fingers as she chewed. "I wouldn't mind having one of these every day after dinner. I'd gladly accept any weight I'll gain from it."

"Well, I'm just stoked to know that our work didn't turn out to be catastrophic," Daisuke proffered as he took another big bite from the vanilla cupcake he had picked. "If Mom likes them, everyone at school will. Sounds like a win for us, eh, Natsuki?"

"We'll see come Monday," said Natsuki, who could not quite keep her heart from fluttering as she listened to the praise.

"If Hiroko and I ever get around to visiting you lot at your school's festival on Monday, do you think you can spare us a few more of these?" asked Mrs. Matsuda.

"Of course, Mom," said Daisuke in reply, finishing his cupcake in two more bites. "You might have to come early, because I have a feeling that they'll all be cleaned out before the day ends."

"I'll see if I can show up early with Hiroko then," said Mrs. Matsuda, laughing. "Have you ever considered selling your cupcakes outside of school, Natsuki?"

Natsuki stood up straighter at the question, giving it some thought for a few seconds. "To be honest with you, Mrs. Matsuda, I have, but it never took off for me," she replied. "I mean, the amount of work being put in all this can make things pretty hectic especially since I'm still studying, and I don't really have any money to keep it up with the ingredients and whatnot. Plus, even if I do try it out, I wouldn't have a place to do all the baking."

"Oh, I understand," said Mrs. Matsuda. "I just figured that with your talent in baking, you can easily get hired by a lot of bakeries out there. The quality you put out is excellent enough to sell good."

"Thank you," said Natsuki, beaming beneath her face mask.

"Perhaps in the future, once you've graduated college, you'd be able to pursue the idea of setting up your own bakery." Mrs. Matsuda smiled back warmly. "Keep at it, Natsuki. Keep your interest strong and your talent sharp. In a few years' time, you'll be wowing even more people with your baking."

In spite of the bleakness of her life at home and how it made the future uncertain for her, Natsuki could not help but feel comforted and determined at Mrs. Matsuda's words. Though she herself had joked before about the idea of opening a bakery in the future with Daisuke as her assistant, the prospect took on a whole new feeling now that Mrs. Matsuda was the one sharing her sentiments. Looking into the woman's amber eyes, Natsuki again saw hints of pain and exhaustion from the past, but also the steely resolve of a lady who wanted nothing more than to keep fighting and live for the brighter side of things, and to help her children see this brighter side for themselves as well. It was an aura that every mother had, and unwittingly, Natsuki's mind flitted back to her memories of her own mother. Almost immediately, she felt her eyes sting as some tears threatened to break through involuntarily.

"If I do end up opening my own bakeshop, I'll make sure to let you know, ma'am," said Natsuki, surprised that she had gotten the words out before they were snagged in her throat.

Mrs. Matsuda smiled. "It'd be an honor to be one of your first customers. Now, if you two don't mind, I'll just go upstairs to get dressed. I should be preparing dinner soon. Natsuki, would you like to stay for dinner? We always have room for one more at the table."

A pang of longing tugged at Natsuki's heartstrings. "I'd love to, Mrs. Matsuda, but my dad will be waiting for me to get home soon," she said sadly.

"Oh, I understand. Next time, then," said Mrs. Matsuda with a smile. "Daisuke, make sure you text your sister and ask her what time she'll be coming home."

"Sure thing, Mom."

When his mother had left the kitchen, Daisuke turned back to Natsuki. "I wish you could stay for dinner," he said sadly.

"Just 'for dinner?' Not 'forever?'" Natsuki quipped.

"Well, that'd be too much to ask already," said Daisuke, laughing. "Anyway, if you're ready, I can drop you off at the street corner, as usual."

"Yeah, I think I'm good to go," said Natsuki, looking away. "T-Thanks. You know, for your help and everything. . ."

Daisuke grinned. "Thanks for always giving me the chance to help."

With that, the two of them made to leave the kitchen. As she exited through the door into the diner, Natsuki glanced back at the cupcakes on the countertop, smiling at the sight of them. With how dismally grey the atmosphere of her life was, punctuated by dread and anxiety, to see colors like them was always worth the trouble and effort.

* * *

_A/N: Greetings, everyone. Yes, I'm not dead, let me just set that record straight XD I know that you all might not want to see a lot of explaining in my author's notes, but I figured that I should at least explain why I was gone for a long while._

_It has been very rough for the past two months - the roughest ones I've had since college, TBH. Anxiety attacks, depressive episodes, some incidents with my friends, all rough. I was a nervous, dejected wreck all throughout. Things only started looking up recently, and I seized every chance and every moment of respite I had to start writing this chapter and the previous one. I knew that one chapter after a lengthy absence would be too lacking, so I gunned for two. I do hope you like them. It feels good to be back to deliver them to you all. I'm really sorry if it took too long._

_I can only hope that things will stay straight from here on out. I have no idea as to when the next chapter will be, but rest assured that I will do my very best to make sure I'll deliver one a lot sooner than two months, and hopefully get back in my old groove. This story and you readers form a big part of what keeps me going, and I'll make sure I don't let you all down. Thank you for reading, and see you in the next chapter. Cheers!_


	53. Chapter 53 - The Festival (Part One)

**CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE – THE FESTIVAL (PART ONE)**

Even in the early half of the day, Koizumi Academy was already fired up with activity and people.

Streamers abound, and posters and banners fluttered lazily as they were suspended from virtually any surface that the eye can reach—on the branches of trees, from lampposts, even the nooks and crannies that windows could offer. Against the day's cool breeze, they resembled various coats of arms, each a proud product created through the efforts of a certain class's artists. Within the school, a cacophonic mishmash of music, muffled but nonetheless audible, was reverberating from some occupied rooms where certain classes had taken up residence to proudly display the results of weeks' worth of work. But that was not to say that most of the action was taking place inside the academy; the open field, often bare during ordinary school days without Physical Education classes, now resembled a multicolored neighborhood as booths of all sorts lined up its sidelines, some even occupying a few patches of ground on the field when no other areas could offer space. People in various costumes—some with simple embellishments like sparkling sequins, tassels and pieces of colored cardboard made on top of everyday clothing, some wearing full homemade suits that made them resemble giant animals and caricatures—stood out garishly as they paraded around the grounds, accompanied by a troupe of classmates passing flyers and loudly encouraging people to visit their booths. At every corner, speakers were set up, connected to the PA system and playing some ambient pop music and an occasional anime song to keep spirits up, even if the prospect of enthusiasm dwindling seemed distant with the vibrant atmosphere that prevailed. All in all, there was an overload to the senses, with the eyes and ears taking the initial brunt as sights were taken in and excitement filled the air.

Akihiro grinned to himself as he walked, looking around at the booths and streamers. As part of the team that was tasked to set up their class's booths in the open field, he had arrived rather early. He had sent Sayori a few texts in the early morning, asking her if she wanted to come along with him, but Sayori had not bothered to reply yet, and not even a few calls—all unanswered—had swayed her. Musing that she had decided to sleep some more and arrive a bit later than usual, Akihiro had let her be, as duty compelled him to arrive early with or without her. Nevertheless, he privately wished that she had been with him – seeing the school slowly and inexorably coming to life throughout the morning as students and visitors arrived was a sight to behold indeed, like a painting slowly gaining color on a blank canvas before his eyes. Now, there were many, many prospects for him to explore, and while he would surely love to do so with Sayori once she showed up, he wanted to take some time to start exploring alone as he set out to spread word about his class's booths.

With the time of day now approaching ten o'clock, preliminary activities were starting to commence. The student council had handed out official pamphlets earlier to visitors, telling them of an open mic concert as well as a food bazaar that would be opening shortly after noontime, along with some games and interactive activities that the school had prepared for any prospective participants. Students who had formed their own makeshift musical bands were starting to flock to the gym, preparing for their routines at the concert. Elsewhere, barriers and facilities were being set up for the games, and also to help direct the press of people into a more manageable flow. In the meantime, familiar faces began cropping up everywhere—former schoolmates who were now in other classes, teachers who were participating in certain events, and more friends who had decided to show up late. Akihiro conversed with some of them as he went, exchanging cordialities and inviting them to stop by for their booth and sign up as participants for their scavenger race.

At around ten-thirty, while watching other students set up booths and tables for the food bazaar, Akihiro turned to see two more familiar faces arriving at the field: Daisuke, his arms laden with a stack of boxes, with Natsuki walking next to him carrying a smaller stack, her black mask still covering half of her smallish face. Akihiro stood up from where he was sitting and made his way towards them.

"Hello there!" he called out over the throng of voices and music, waving.

Daisuke grinned as he turned to see him approaching. "Hey, Akihiro!"

"Need a hand with those?" Akihiro asked, nodding towards the boxes. "I don't have a lot to do right now."

"Is that okay with you? We've been carrying these all the way from my place, and my back's starting to kill me," said Daisuke with a laugh.

"Of course!" Akihiro took three of the boxes as Daisuke said a word of thanks. "How about you, Natsuki? Do you need help with those?"

"No, I've got it," said Natsuki. She gave him a petulant look, but her gaze softened as she added, "Thanks for the offer, though."

Akihiro smiled. "So, where are you two headed?" he asked.

"Our booths are by the cafeteria side," said Daisuke in reply. "Come on."

Class 3-D's booths were a mixture of blue, purple and pink, housing a number of various displays—hand-painted pictures, decorative baubles made out of paper and cardboard, and a balloon pop display with prizes ranging from school supplies to small stuffed animals. Akihiro observed them and the other students from 3-D curiously, exchanging brief pleasantries with some who had been his classmates in previous years. Some were starting to pin some colorful banners atop their booths, and Akihiro saw that apart from bearing the booths' names, the banners bore a unique crest laden with various symmetrical designs that were derived from "3-D," an obvious nod to the class to whom the booths belonged to.

"Nice banners," he commented. "I wish we had more of those."

"We have our resident artist Mr. Matsuda to thank for those banners," said one of the 3-D students. Beside Daisuke, Natsuki chuckled silently.

"Wait, you made those banners, Daisuke?" asked Akihiro as he placed down the boxes alongside them on one of the booths.

"Yep. Been working on that kind of thing for the festivals," said Daisuke, smiling as he glanced up at his work. "It's hard to think of a design every year, but I can manage."

"Well, now we know who's the toughest third-year class to beat if the school ever decides to hold banner-making contests," said Akihiro approvingly, looking at the stuffed animals at the balloon pop booth and being reminded of Sayori. "Anyway, what're in these boxes you guys are carrying, by the way? They look like precious cargo."

"With the quality they have, you can say that," Daisuke replied with a small laugh. "They're cupcakes."

"Oh, really? Did you guys buy them or what?"

"Not really. Natsuki and—"

"A-Alright, that's enough of that," Natsuki said loudly, interrupting Daisuke's words as she shot him a look. She turned to Akihiro and nodded. "Thanks again for your help. We'll be giving out cupcakes later, so if you want to try them out, you can stop by our booths later when they're all open. We can't start handing them out just yet, or else we'd run out before the day ends."

"Oh, sure thing. Thanks," said Akihiro, nodding with a smile. "Same goes for any of you, by the way. Our booths will be opening shortly, so feel free to come around later. And if you wanna participate in our scavenger hunt, sign-ups are still open until 1 P.M. You get to carry props and wear a bit of gear and all that stuff, and everyone gets a prize, even for just participating. It'll be loads of fun."

"We might be a bit too busy to join that race, but we'll definitely see if we can visit your other booths," said Daisuke. "Anyway, thanks again for your help, man. We appreciate it."

"It was nothing. See you guys around!"

With that, Akihiro rejoined the jumble of people walking around the open field. More familiar faces popped up, both from other classes as well as some students who had taken to cosplaying as some well-known video game and anime characters to promote their own displays and booths. Sayori was now definitely missing out on the preliminary excitement of the festival's genesis, Akihiro knew, but the day was long, and there was still plenty of time and fun for her to arrive at once she showed up. Sending her a quick text asking her to hurry up, he set out, looking for more people to invite to Class 3-B's booths.

* * *

Yuri hung back at the benches, choosing to sit and observe all the other students and visitors walking towards the open field, where most of the fun was happening for the festival. The walk to school had taken a toll on her body, and her back had the faint makings of a strain that needed a bit of rest. Meanwhile, Naoki had retreated inside the school's main building earlier, being one of the assignees tasked to make the final preparations for their class's booths as well as to help the prop and costume preparations for the designated "hawkers"—a small group of their classmates who would go around in colorful costumes loudly and enthusiastically inviting people to stop by Class 3-C's venues. Not knowing what to do without Naoki to guide her in such a dynamic, lively atmosphere, Yuri waited for his return both patiently and anxiously.

Somehow, it felt superfluous to bring along _The Portrait of Markov _during a day when any silent and solitary activity seemed to be virtually unheard of, but such was the norm for Yuri every time a major event or festival happened at school. Instead of being absent entirely and risking her absence being noted by class officers or professors, she had no choice but to attend such events – provided she could find a nice, quiet spot at the rooftop to read and be at peace away from everything and everyone else. Once the festivities were done, all that remained for her to do was to sneak back downstairs and depart with the crowd. However, that was all before she had met Naoki and taken the little steps necessary to combat her introversion for him, her recent huge mishap notwithstanding. Even so, Yuri chose to bring the book along, musing that at the very least it would give her something to do if Naoki was needed elsewhere again.

Yuri's gaze rested again on the festival. As of late, she had decided to write almost nightly in an effort to keep her groove and steer clear of her anxiety, and the sights and sounds there would make for an exhilarating poem indeed—if she could deal with the extroverted pressure of mingling with a crowd in order to look for inspiration up close, that is. Still, it was only a simple matter of remembering what she would see, hear and feel and saving them in her mind to write for later. Thus, she began making mental notes on which activities and venues would be engaging and interesting enough to influence the mood in her next poem for tonight, and one instance in particular was something that Yuri was anticipating more than anything – a visit at Class 3-D's booths for some of Natsuki's cupcakes. The cupcakes themselves would be worth the trip, but if the day did not permit her to spend as much time alone or with Naoki as she would have liked, Yuri looked forward to spending some time with Natsuki herself. As she had confessed to Naoki before, Yuri always liked discussing things with her in spite of her nervousness in talking to someone who had a penchant for being so blunt and even abrasive. Especially now, when her anxiety was directing her to seek out more people apart from Naoki to keep her anchored in spite of her introversion, Yuri knew that Natsuki was at least a person she felt she knew better now than most of her classmates.

When Naoki returned, Yuri immediately stood up with a ready, if nervous smile. The strain on her back nudged at her a little as she moved.

"I'm sorry if that took too long," Naoki told her as he approached.

"Don't worry, it's alright," said Yuri. "D-Do you need to go someplace else?"

"Right now, I don't think so. Some of the guys are filling in for us at the booths, so we should be good to wander around for a while." Naoki smiled, adjusting his eyeglasses as he looked around before turning again to her. Together, the two of them made their way to the open field.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere is fine with me," said Yuri. "If you don't mind, though . . ."

"Yes? What is it?" asked Naoki.

Yuri swallowed anxiously. "I would p-prefer if we sat down somewhere every once in a while. You see, my back tends to start hurting more nowadays if I walk for too long. I guess it's because I've gotten used to leaning forward again when I'm r-reading or writing. . ."

"Oh, I hope it's nothing too serious," said Naoki concernedly.

"Don't worry, it's not. I guess it's just because of my—"

Yuri hesitated for a moment, looking down and wondering just how best to explain it to someone as proper as Naoki. Poor posture was one way to circumvent an explanation about her predicament, as her mood generally affected the way she sat and slept and read, but the actual answer seemed utterly obvious as she glanced at her own body that she wondered if it was foolish to even try hiding it. After all, in spite of the clothes she chose to wear, she could not always hide the womanly figure she possessed, nor could she stave off some of the stares that came with it from certain males that she passed by. Instinctively, she braced her copy of _Markov _against her chest, imagining a bluntly amused side comment from Natsuki echoing somewhere in the vicinity.

Yuri plunged on determinedly; her embarrassment peaked all of a sudden as faint realization dawned on Naoki's face.

"B-Because of my . . ."

"_Finally!_"

Yuri jumped as a loud, familiar voice boomed some ways behind them, carrying even above the din of the festival. The two of them turned around to see Kenta approaching them, his blazer unbuttoned to reveal a black shirt bearing the printed logo of a familiar basketball team. He had a mixed look of disgruntlement and glee on his face, and he waved cheerfully as he drew nearer.

"Salivations, you two!" he greeted.

"You're mixing up words in the dictionary again, Kenta. Were you looking for 'salutations?'" said Naoki amusedly. Yuri bit back a nervous giggle.

"Ah, mine's close enough." Kenta looked around, drawing in a deep breath and making his broad chest puff out. "Is everybody else at the booths already? Been looking everywhere for our mates! I guess they're all busy helping out inside, eh?"

"Yes, I just got back from helping the hawkers set up, actually," said Naoki. "How about Daisuke? Did you catch him along the way?"

"Nah, I texted him earlier. He arrived earlier than I did, the little dolt. Anyway, where are you two headed? Gonna watch over the booths?"

"No, we've got the others taking care of that for the morning. Yuri and I were just on our way to figure out where we can go in the meantime."

"Well, if you're gonna go exploring, be sure to check out 3-B's booths and stuff. I heard that Akihiro and his buddies have a sweet little scavenger hunt planned for later. Might be fun to watch."

"Oh yes, he sent me a text about that as well. We also have 3-D to visit later, with Natsuki's baking and all."

Kenta raised his eyebrows. "Natsuki? Baking?" he asked blankly.

Naoki laughed. "I think Daisuke forgot to tell you."

"Is this another conspiracy to keep me out of the loop about something important again?" asked Kenta. "Dolts."

"Not really, you just weren't there when we found out about Natsuki planning to bake some cupcakes for today. She surprised us with some sample cupcakes last week to see if it'd work, and they were really good."

"Really? Huh. That's actually pretty neat."

"Yeah, it is. And we're looking forward to stopping by later for what else she baked. Make sure to stop by there, too!"

"Alright, sounds good. In the meantime, though, I think I'll just go on ahead and see who's watching the booths already, or maybe wait around a bit until the open mic concert starts." Kenta winked and saluted at the two of them. "You two have fun. I know I will!"

"Sure thing, brother," said Naoki with a grin.

"T-Take care, Kenta," Yuri added politely, feeling rather uncomfortable that she was completely quiet during their entire exchange until now.

Kenta, on the other hand, did not seem to think much of it. "Thanks!" he said cheerfully. With that, he walked past them, going in another direction at the open field. Soon, his athletic frame was drowned out by the press of students in the distance.

"Kenta likes calling you and Daisuke 'dolts' often, d-doesn't he?" Yuri asked as she and Naoki continued walking.

"Yes, but don't worry. He doesn't always mean it," replied Naoki.

"But h-he knows what it means, right?" Yuri inquired, not wanting to sound as if she was trying to judge Kenta.

"That's why he uses it so often," said Naoki with a chuckle. "He keeps using big words sometimes, even if his pronunciations and memory aren't the best, as I'm sure you've seen. He first saw 'dolt' on an online gaming forum back in middle school, and he's been using it ever since I told him what it meant. I think he also likes how it sounds. Easy to remember, too."

"I see. . ." said Yuri, smiling a little. However, the expression faded as she remembered what she had been trying to say before Kenta's arrival. "A-About what I was telling you earlier. . ."

Naoki, however, held up a hand to forestall her. Yuri saw that his cheeks had grown faintly pink for some reason. "Don't worry, I get what you were . . . what you were t-trying to say," he said.

Yuri stared at him for a moment before heaving a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she said, blushing as well.

On the open field, the two of them soon saw that even more groups of hawkers from other classes were now marching about, waving placards and banners of their own as they advertised their respective class's booths and activities with unique chants and catchphrases. Some groups were setting up on various areas, ready to perform dance routines and short skits in full costume. Yuri watched them admiringly in silence from the sidelines, wondering just what kind of courage it takes for someone to shout and dance and entertain in front of a large crowd. Still, the energy they were giving off was infectious, and Yuri felt even more determined to keep looking for a way to make the most out of the day's festivities.

* * *

The second-year student peered again from around the door frame, looking rather concerned. "Are you sure you don't want to come along with us just yet, Miss Monika?" she asked.

"Not yet, Ichika. I'll go down to the festival when I'm done with these notes. Thank you for the invitation, though," Monika replied with a smile. The eagerness on her junior club members' faces was plain to read; they wanted to make the most out of the day before they returned for the second and final meeting later, and it would not do if she delayed them any longer.

"It was nothing, Miss Monika," said the student, smiling back. "We'll try to be back early for the meeting. See you later!"

"Alright, have fun!"

When she was all alone at last, Monika looked over the notes one more time, ensuring that everything was up to par before the first meeting of the day was officially concluded on her end. It was a superfluous task, she knew, with their final meeting later on aimed at finalizing what needed nailing down and thus lessening the need for her to finalize anything at the moment. Still, with the nationals drawing ever nearer, duty was the norm for the debate club, and such was the obligation that Monika knew she should stick to if she wanted to set a good example to her junior members. In keeping with this commitment, the debate club had decided to forego any participation in the festival, not even to demonstrate a mock debate or instill interest in would-be signees in the future. Instead, Monika had pitched to her other officers—with Takeo leading the way in approving her choice—their schedule for December and January in preparation for the nationals, to nip things in the bud before stress and conflicting schedules became a problem. The notes that Monika was reading now bore the preliminary listings of their next meetings as well as the scheduled follow-up reports they would be making in front of their superiors at the faculty.

Monika heaved a sigh, once again finding herself trapped between the world of responsibility and the portal to a brighter atmosphere filled with choices and fun as the festival commenced all around her. Even as her eyes trailed over the itineraries she had written in her own hand, she began wondering if taking up her junior members' offer of going down to the festival was a better idea than staying all alone in a clubroom that seemed a million times more dismal in comparison. Still, she shouldered her choice with both resignation and determination. After all, it wasn't as if she would be in the clubroom for the entire day; being a prisoner at home under the pejorative scrutiny of her mother was already enough, especially after her last date with Kenta. Her heart twitched a little at that. While nothing much seemed to change on her end as her mother put the issue behind her in record time, Monika sensed that something was starting to bother Kenta again. Sure enough, he still occasionally texted her and sent her puns and jokes and reminded her to take care of herself at all times, but Monika could not help but wonder if there was more than Kenta was letting on after her mother had spoken to him.

Drawing near the end of the list, Monika put the papers down and stood up, pacing around the classroom before settling near the windows. Looking down, she saw a multitude of people snaking their way across the space in between the booths on the open field, with some leaking into the center of the field as the food bazaar began to take off. It was like gazing into another city, another dimension with lots of colors and choices. And she, Monika, was staring out from a hole within a dismal place, all alone, choosing to remain behind and stick to her duties for a little while longer instead of joining in immediately. She smiled to herself as she remembered how it drew an interesting parallel with the last poem she had written, and marveled at the irony that it was a choice she had made on her own volition. Drawing away from the windows, she wondered if she would make such choices again in the future.

The food bazaar had officially begun by the time Monika finished her note-reading. She placed everything neatly in the club's main desk, locked the clubroom and made her way down to the ground floor. Slowly, things began coming to life for her, with each floor leading her to more students hanging around the classrooms and corridors, either in uniform or in full costume. Those who recognized her, from freshmen to upperclassmen, greeted her with warmth and an air of familiarity, though it was not the same kind of familiarity that one would give a good friend; rather, it was the kind that one would afford a public figure, a celebrity even, being a byproduct of Monika's status as a model student and one of the school's most popular girls. In spite of all this, however, Monika responded to the greetings and invitations with equal friendliness, not wanting to seem too rude by passing everyone by with nary an acknowledgment just because she did not know every one of them personally.

Finally out on the open field, passing by a number of acquaintances and former classmates along the way, Monika scanned the horizon. Each booth seemed to offer forth something unique in an effort to draw in visitors. The art club, with its booth right at the entrance of the open field, was offering to hand-draw portraits of visitors in various art styles, and already there were quite a few of them lining up to see how they would look anime-style. The drama club had already erected a makeshift stage near the food bazaar, their costumed members playing comedic skits from well-known television shows to any passersby who wanted to stop by for a quick laugh. And some students carrying various musical instruments—keyboards, electric guitars, and the like—were making their way towards the gymnasium, no doubt preparing for the open mic concert later in the day as the music club guided them with a list of schedules and signatures. They reminded Monika of Kenta's joking invitation to her long ago, and she could not help but wonder how it would turn out if she had taken up on his offer and played for the school like she did on her piano recitals long ago in elementary school. Life had been simpler then.

Passing by a number of booths, Monika spotted Akihiro in the distance, walking around as if looking for someone. Smiling at the sight of a more familiar face, she made her way towards him.

"Hey there, Akihiro!" she called out.

Akihiro turned around, looking harried for a moment. "Oh, hello there, Monika!" he greeted back with a wave.

"Having fun? I just got back downstairs from our clubroom." Monika looked around, stepping aside to let a gaggle of costumed freshmen pass. "Good to know the festival hasn't passed me by yet!"

"Plenty of time for everyone to catch up," said Akihiro. "I really wish Sayori's here already, though. Haven't seen her all morning. Did you see her, by any chance?"

"Come to think of it, no, I haven't. Didn't she come along with you this morning?"

"Nah, had to wake up pretty early to help our class set up." Akihiro shook his head, taking out his cellphone from his pocket and glancing at it. "No texts, no calls, nothing. I mean, it's not the first time she overslept and showed up really late, but I'm just . . . I mean, the food bazaar's up, and she's not the type to miss out on food."

Monika placed a hand on Akihiro's shoulder. "I'm certain that she's going to show up sooner or later," she said reassuringly. "Anyway, it's always sweet to see you being concerned for her like this. She'd be blushing up a storm if she could hear you right now."

Akihiro turned slightly pink as he laughed. "Thanks. I know she can be an airhead sometimes, but I don't wanna coast on that kind of thinking too much, not after the stuff we've been through in the past months."

"Oh yes, I know what you mean," said Monika, remembering the sad things that Sayori had confided in her before. Only then did she realize that she had not spoken much to Sayori at all about them; Monika made a mental note to ask in the future.

"I don't think you'd need to worry about her too much at the moment," she went on. "Maybe she just went somewhere and forgot to bring her phone."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," said Akihiro, though the look in his eyes betrayed his continuing doubt. "I wanted her to come with me this morning to school, but with the early preparations and all . . . I don't think I should've left her to go alone. I mean, we always go to school together, and . . . ugh, I don't know."

Monika smiled. "I'm sure she's okay, Akihiro. It's not like you just left her hanging, you know?"

Akihiro sighed. "I hope I didn't." His melancholy reminded Monika of Kenta for a moment, and briefly her mind wandered back to their latest evening together.

After Akihiro left her with an invitation to their class's booths and scavenger race, Monika kept moving deeper into the open field, navigating the maze of festivities with curiosity and growing anticipation. Many familiar faces ran into her along the way, including most of her club members and a few of the student council officers that had been her former classmates. Soon, other visitors showed up—relatives, friends from other schools, and other such acquaintances. The festival was open to all.

Monika crossed the open field and made her way at the covered walks near the gymnasium, looking for a more peaceful place for the moment. Music echoed from the gymnasium, cacophonic and intermittent, the rehearsals of the prospective participants at the open mic concert. Listening to the guitars and drums and keyboards clashing with the pop music that was playing on the speakers around the field, Monika's fingers twitched, looking for the keys of a piano momentarily, itching to tap a melody out in the air. She imagined playing before the school, singing to them the song that she had yet to finish composing, the one that conveyed her feelings to Kenta at her house long ago.

An unoccupied stone bench near the comfort rooms was where Monika soon found solace. It had to be an odd sight, she mused—an extroverted individual like her, well-known throughout the academy, looking for peace and quiet in some far corner of the school grounds and away from her other friends. Monika could only vaguely wonder what compelled her to do so. A few minutes' worth of respite before she would go to the food bazaar to eat? A realization that the dynamic atmosphere of the festival seemed to clash with her pensive aura? Monika did not know, and yet her she was, led by her own two feet. She sat down on the bench, her gaze stopping to rest on the merriments in the distance.

"Having fun alone, are we?"

Monika turned around. Takeo was there, with his auburn hair and pale blue eyes and that consistently smug air beneath his smile. It was the first time that he had ever approached her on his own volition since that business dinner at her house long ago, and she had not expected him to do so again outside of their club meetings any time soon after their last argument. Monika's surprise was further compounded as she noticed that he was carrying two plastic cups with him.

"Fancy a drink?" he asked.

Monika scooted aside, giving him the signal that it was okay for him to sit. "Is that brandy you have there?" she joked.

"Only fruit punch, I'm afraid," Takeo replied in an amused tone as he walked towards her and sat down next to her, "courtesy of some of my classmates at the bazaar."

"Sounds refreshing," said Monika, taking the cup he offered with a smile. "Thank you."

"You're very much welcome." Takeo took a sip of punch and leaned back on the bench with a sigh. "It's good that we didn't decide to make ourselves even busier by having the club join the fun. I'm glad you chose to plan instead."

"Well, the nationals can't be taken lightly, as you've been graciously reminding us." Speaking these words, Monika remembered their argument again. She sat up rather stiffly, though she kept her voice cordial. "At the very least, we'll be able to rest easy once it's all said and done. Until then, we just need to keep doing our best when we can."

Takeo nodded beside her, staring off to the open field. "I heard that the team from Sakagami Institute has been making quite the climb in their prefecture for the past few months. And Kumahara High's team has started training with the help of a professor from Tokyo. I expect they'll be quite the challenge."

Now it was Monika's turn to nod. Once the time for actual practice came, she knew they would be up to their ears in notes, index cards and reminders from their professors about the dos and don'ts in their arguments, all mounting as January drew nearer. Koizumi Academy had been in the nationals only thrice before, always the bridesmaid, never the bride. In the present year, with their roster being proclaimed the best their professors had seen in years, the order to win their first championship at last was a very tall one indeed. As such, they would treasure what little reprieve they would have from all the training and preparation.

"I've been thinking about what will happen after the nationals," Takeo continued. "I think that whatever the outcome will be, we deserve to celebrate our efforts. The mere fact that we managed to accumulate enough accolades in the local scene to bring Koizumi to Tokyo again is enough."

_Another surprise. _Monika stared at Takeo, her eyebrows raised in wonder. Her vice president had always reiterated that celebrating any victory was superfluous considering that such victories only meant that they needed to work harder. The fact that it was he who was offering to celebrate this time seemed out of character for him. Monika could not help but wonder if Takeo was merely trying to extend an olive branch of sorts after their last confrontation, or if the festival's air of merriment had given him the idea, or if he was genuinely proud of the club's redoubled efforts.

"What kind of celebration?" she asked.

Takeo shrugged. "We can hang around Tokyo for a while after the competition, I suppose. Go around, take in the sights, eat nicely. I've been speaking to Mother about her friends who can help us book the accommodations we'll need for the competition, and they might help us find a nice place to unwind once it's all over—Asakusa, Ginza, Omotesando, wherever. I've been to Tokyo a lot before, so it's all old news to me, but perhaps you and the others will find it enjoyable."

"I think that'd be nice indeed," said Monika. Though her parents traveled frequently around Japan for work, she had known only dear old Eishima for most of her life. "When are we going to tell the others?"

"Preferably after the competition," Takeo replied shortly. "We wouldn't want the prospect ruining anyone's focus, so please don't tell any of them just yet."

"Don't worry, I won't," said Monika, laughing a little at how Takeo's munificence did not negate his focused mindset one bit. "I'll look forward to it, though. Thank you for planning it."

Takeo shrugged again, taking a sip of punch. The faintest of smiles crossed the corners of his lips. "It's nothing."

* * *

_Why did I do this, why did I do this, why did I do this, why did I do this, why did I do this?_

Natsuki's heart was racing at a hundred miles per hour, threatening to climb up her throat. The wait was excruciating, but she was dreading its end all the same. Class 3-D's booths were starting to pick up visitors, and sooner or later they would have to whip out the cupcakes for them. Compared to her previous efforts, where she had the cupcakes given anonymously to her classmates back then through their class adviser, sitting out in the open like this and waiting for providence to rear its head was more than she could handle. A number of times, Natsuki considered swallowing her pride and fear to stick with the choices she made, but she also wanted to scream and fight and beg the gods of time and nature for the chance to make herself scarce once the first cupcakes were handed out.

Daisuke had gone off to the field, looking to get some food for the two of them at the bazaar. Natsuki wanted to wait for his return before asking if it was time. After all, he was complicit in this . . . this deed, this choice of hers, and she wanted him to be there when it all came crashing down around her ears, so that she could blame and punch him one last time before she melted into nothingness out of sheer embarrassment.

Natsuki stood up, excusing herself from her other classmates at the booth, and snuck away to a remote corner of the gymnasium's exterior close to the restrooms. Making sure that no one was around to see, she pulled down her face mask and let out a protracted sigh, as if she had been holding her breath in for a while now. She leaned back against the wall next to her, her head turned away in case any passersby chanced to look around at her. Thankfully, no one seemed to pay her any heed, even as her spot sat next to one of the covered walkways that led back to the open field. The cool autumn air caressed her face, drying up the sweat on her cheeks and chin in its soothing touch. Natsuki breathed in the relief it provided, letting it ease her fears ever so slightly.

_I should just go home. I'll tell Daisuke that . . . that I have a stomach ache. That's it. Or that Dad wants me home early. Or maybe I can say that Aunt Shoko is coming over._

_No, I shouldn't leave. Daisuke might mess things up when he's handing out the cupcakes. He might give out too much, or too little. Or he might forget._

"Ugh!" Natsuki grumbled, stamping her foot and balling her small hands into fists. Though trapped within the school, she knew that the only one holding her back from simply leaving without any explanation was her own self, but she could not find it in her heart to even attempt walking past the booths. She saw with annoyance that she was willing herself to find a good enough reason to walk away, and even then she was contradicting herself by finding reasons to stay. She breathed deeply, putting her face mask back on, trying to calm her heart long enough for her to begin thinking rationally.

_Okay, I should just wait for him to come back. Maybe while we're eating, we can talk about it, and maybe . . . maybe I'll slip in casually the idea that I can just go home early. Or stay. I don't know._

"Oh!"

As a tall, warm body collided with hers, Natsuki's thoughts screeched to a sudden halt. The exclamation that followed had come from a girl, judging by her tone of voice. Natsuki felt her chest press against her face, her knee hitting against her hip. The collision was not that hard, though it definitely rattled Natsuki's senses with how sudden it was. She scrambled backwards, half-shoving the intruder away from her and glaring up as her temper skyrocketed.

"What's the big idea?!" she screeched as her eyes focused on the other girl. "Can't you see that I'm—?!"

Instead of continuing, however, she found herself staring up at the beautiful, mortified face of Yuri Hoshino, who looked as if she had just witnessed a murder in front of her eyes. Natsuki bit back her tirade, brushing her pink hair from her eyes as she glared at Yuri. As annoyed as she was, she could not help but think twice as she saw the actual shock—and fear—in Yuri's brilliant eyes.

"I'm really sorry!" Yuri exclaimed, drawing back in fright. "I was going to the restroom, a-and I didn't see that you were here! I'm so sorry!"

Natsuki shook her head, her annoyance beginning to dissipate as the accidental nature of the collision dawned on her. As vexed as she was, it would not do for her to pick a fight over such an innocent happenstance, much less with someone as easily troubled as Yuri.

"It's fine, it's fine," she grumbled, taking a deep breath so that the initial roughness of her voice would soften up. "I shouldn't have been standing here either."

"No, I should've w-watched where I was going as well," Yuri breathed, wringing her hands together. "I hope I didn't h-hurt you or anything."

Natsuki sighed, looking up at her one more time. Yuri winced, as if she was expecting a blow coming. At that, Natsuki's heart gave a small lurch of pity, seeing how similar Yuri's reaction was to how she would react whenever her father would hit her. Her anger ebbing away completely, she said, "No harm done, so don't worry about it anymore. Anyway, you were going somewhere, right?"

She nodded towards the restrooms. Yuri snapped back to attention. "Oh, y-yes, thank you for reminding me," she said, bowing nervously. "U-Um, if you'll excuse me. . ."

"Go ahead," said Natsuki, standing aside to let her pass unhindered.

As Yuri ran inside the restroom, Natsuki hung back for a while, wondering if she should wait for her so that the two of them could talk. _But about what?_ Natsuki sensed that it might be a pointless gesture in the end. She still had her dilemma to deal with, and she was sure that Yuri had someplace else to go afterwards, and could not afford to be disturbed by the likes of her. Nevertheless, Natsuki chose to stick around, letting her thoughts rest and waiting for Yuri to reemerge. Perhaps it would be a good way to pass the time as she waited for her fears to go and for Daisuke to return. If things became awkward, well . . . there were worse things to worry about.

When Yuri reemerged from the restroom, caressing her left forearm, she stopped as she saw Natsuki. "Going back now?" Natsuki asked her.

"Yes," replied Yuri, her embarrassment at their earlier collision still evident as she gripped her forearm. "B-But I don't have anywhere else to go at the moment, to be honest. Naoki's off helping more of our classmates, and we've already got other classmates working at our booths. Until Naoki gets back, I'm all alone."

"I see." Natsuki glanced back at the field. "I'm waiting as well. For Daisuke, I mean. Anyway, if you don't have anywhere else to go, you can drop by our booths."

"That sounds nice," said Yuri. "But I think it'd be better if Naoki and I went there together. I mean, I w-wouldn't want him to be left out, and he might come looking for me once he gets back. . ."

Natsuki shrugged. "Well, if you don't have anything else to do at the moment, maybe we can just . . . I dunno, talk around here or someplace else."

"Oh, is that okay with you?"

"Yeah. How about you? I mean, I'm not trying to force you to stick around or anything."

"Actually, I think that w-would be nice," said Yuri with a nervous smile. "I've been looking forward to talking to you again, actually."

Natsuki gave her a quizzical look. The sheer coincidence of their thoughts being so similar felt funny to her. "How come?"

Yuri began wringing her hands again. "W-Well, after how things have been going recently, I figured I should be doing it more often. Oh, don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm just b-bored and have no one to talk to. I . . . I just thought it'd be a nice change of pace considering how I used to participate during school events like this. . ."

"Why? How did you do it before?" asked Natsuki.

Yuri hesitated, looking perturbed. "Reading alone someplace quiet, away from . . . f-from everyone else."

Natsuki stared at her for a moment, marveling once again at the parallels they shared in spite of how different they seemed. Somehow, she felt that she had done the right thing sticking around to talk to Yuri.

"Well, if your boyfriend's not gonna come looking for you, you can hang out at our booths in the meantime," she told her. "Did you eat lunch already?"

"N-No, I'm not yet hungry," said Yuri. "I think I'll just wait until Naoki gets back. He might want to have lunch with me and all. . ."

"Alright. Well, if you don't mind, I'm gonna be going back now. Daisuke will be back any moment, and he might end up looking for me if I'm not there. If it's okay with you, you can come with me and wait for your boyfriend there."

"Ah, I see. . ." Yuri paused for a moment, her eyes looking anxiously pensive. "O-Okay, I'll just go with you."

Back at the booths, Daisuke was already waiting. He was handing out some small boxes of prepped meals to their other classmates who had requested him to buy for them at the bazaar. Natsuki broke into a jog once she spotted him, with Yuri following rather tentatively behind. Daisuke looked up at them, grinning.

"Takoyaki and yakisoba, just the way you like it," he said, holding out a box to Natsuki. "Hello there, Yuri!" he added, nodding over at Yuri, who smiled nervously back.

"Thanks, said Natsuki, opening the box and savoring the aroma of freshly cooked noodles for a moment. She would eat behind the booths, safe from anyone who might catch a glimpse of her recovering face. She glanced over at Yuri. "Want some?" she asked her.

"No, it's alright. T-Thank you," said Yuri.

"Have you guys seen Kenta, by the way?" Daisuke asked as he mixed a box of fried rice with a plastic spoon. "He usually drops by early."

"We did, but he went off somewhere else," replied Yuri. "We haven't seen him at our class's booths since."

"Well, maybe he'll drop by soon," Daisuke mused, chewing his first spoonful of fried rice. "Oh, by the way, Mom sent a text earlier," he added, turning towards Natsuki. "She's gonna be dropping by in an hour or so. She just needs to wait for the other helpers at the diner to watch the place in the meantime."

Natsuki felt her dread returning as she remembered what she had been worrying about in the first place. She shot a glance at the boxes of cupcakes stacked on one corner of their booth. "I-Is your sister gonna show up with her?" she asked Daisuke.

"I dunno if Hiroko's still at home, but if she is, she'll definitely tag along," replied Daisuke. "Do you think we should start handing out the cupcakes before they show up, or after?"

"W-Whatever works," said Natsuki, standing up. She felt her knees tremble slightly as her nervousness rose. "Anyway, be right back. I'll just go and eat this. . ."

At the back of the booths, Natsuki took off her face mask again and let out a long sigh, sitting down on one of the spare outdoor chairs her classmates had brought. _Alright, focus. You chose to stay, so you're gonna have to deal with it. Besides, it'll be fine. Mrs. Matsuda's a nice woman, and Hiroko's neat too. They already know about the cupcakes. No need to have a panic attack. _But as she dwelt on these thoughts, Natsuki remembered everyone else who could drop by their booths. It was an inescapable ordeal, she knew.

Some movement at the corner of her eye made her look up. Once again, Yuri was there, looking at her like a child that had followed her parent with a timid kind of curiosity. Natsuki frowned for a moment at the intrusion before realizing that she had just left Yuri to fend for herself around a class that she was unfamiliar with.

"You sure you don't wanna eat?" she asked her.

Yuri shook her head. "I just remembered that I left my book at our booths. I hope it's still there. . ."

"What book was it?" asked Natsuki, knowing just how it felt to potentially lose such a prized possession.

"T-The one I mentioned to you before. _The Portrait of Markov._"

"Oh. You're still not done reading that?"

"I'm taking my time. . ." Yuri glanced at the empty seats next to Natsuki, but she did not move from her spot.

Natsuki nodded towards the seat next to her. "Go ahead. No one else is here anyway."

Yuri looked surprised for a moment. "Oh, I see. T-Thank you."

As she sat down opposite her, Natsuki began wondering if it was okay to take off her face mask to eat. Her stomach was starting to clamor for food, but she had never eaten with anyone other than Daisuke around ever since her face had been injured. Yuri was different from her other classmates, Natsuki knew, but the silent lavender-haired beauty was still a stranger when it came to the part of her life that only she and Daisuke knew. Then again, Yuri was also as nice as anyone she had met, and though she was often intimidated by social interactions, Natsuki saw nothing from her that gave away any signs that she was more mean-spirited than she had initially believed.

When her stomach growled again, Natsuki knew that it had to be done. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and removed her face mask. She immediately noticed the way Yuri's eyebrows flicked upwards in surprise, as if she had not been expecting to see traces of bruising at her cheeks; after all, it was only the bruise on her eye that Yuri had spotted before. Not wanting to address the obvious on an empty stomach, Natsuki focused her gaze on her food.

She was five minutes into eating when Yuri dared to break the silence between them. "Do you think winter will be cold this year?"

Natsuki looked at her, surprised that someone as deep as Yuri would actually go for a topic as stereotypically casual as the weather. "I dunno. However cold it'll be, though, I'm not a fan."

"Oh, how come?"

"The smaller you are, the faster you'll freeze. I mean, look at me."

Yuri nodded. "Ah, I understand. I like it, though." When Natsuki shot her a look, she quickly rallied as she noticed just how her words sounded. "N-Not you, of course! I meant winter. W-Winter, yes."

Natsuki chuckled. "Yeah, I can see why you'd love winter. Quiet time, at least until the holidays roll in."

"Yes, exactly," said Yuri, seemingly relieved that she had understood her. Natsuki noticed that she was shifting again into that confident self that often came out when she spoke about something she liked. "It does take a toll on Grandmother – I mean, at her age, it's hard not to be worn down by the cold, yes? But other than that, it's a perfect time to just wind down at the end of the day with a hot cup of tea or a steaming bowl of okayu, with a good book in front of you or a pen and some paper."

Natsuki looked at her, digesting the simple profundity of her words. "That . . . actually sounds nice, yeah." Not wanting to discourage Yuri, she racked her brain for another topic.

"So you're, um . . . you're still writing?" she asked.

"Ah, n-not as often as I think I should," said Yuri, her confidence hitting a snag for a moment. "Sometimes, I don't have the drive for it, and sometimes I just end up forgetting to write. Hopefully, the festival can help me with that."

"Help you? What do you mean?"

"Oh, give me certain topics or themes that I can write about, I mean. It's usually like that. When something makes me think or feel, I often set it aside and see if I can write something out of it. A haiku, a longer poem, a descriptive paragraph, it all depends on my train of thought. Scenes like the festival can be a treasure trove of ideas for that, if you're willing to look."

"I see. So . . ." Natsuki looked around, beckoning carelessly at their surroundings with her plastic fork. "Is there anything here that's giving you any ideas?"

Yuri pondered for a moment, her beautiful face looking pensive once again as her eyes traveled slowly, taking in the sights. Natsuki watched her closely, wondering just what it is that she might be thinking and glancing around at what she was looking at in case she could figure it out as well.

All of a sudden, Yuri spoke in a clear but gentle tone.

"_To take those chances,_

_And find one's joy in the sun,_

_In autumn's embrace._"

Natsuki swallowed her food slowly, looking on with a mixture of awe and incredulity. _Five-seven-five. A haiku. _That Yuri was able to make one on the spot surprised her even more, even if she knew it was to be expected given how intellectual and insightful Yuri seemed to be in spite of her introversion.

Feeling her gaze upon her, Yuri tensed in her seat. "I'm sorry. It's just . . . just something I thought of as quickly as I could," she said timidly. "I mean, hopefully you g-get the idea now of . . . of how I t-tend to write and all that."

"Yeah, I think I get it now," said Natsuki. "It's . . . actually pretty cool, not gonna lie."

Yuri gave her a rueful smile. "T-Thank you."

Silence fell between them again. Finding nothing else to say for the moment, Yuri looked elsewhere, watching students pass by. As she chewed another mouthful of yakisoba, Natsuki considered things for a moment. Her mind was racing, trying to move along the same observant, imaginative wavelength that Yuri had. Though the topic of poetry was not something that often crossed her mind, the casual and almost leisurely way Yuri went about it, along with her obvious knowledge at wordplay, had made her more curious than she had anticipated. After all, weren't the themes Yuri mentioned also found in the myriad of colorful topics and slice-of-life situations that Natsuki knew and loved in all the manga she read?

"I think I'm gonna try that out for myself."

The words were out before Natsuki could even reconsider. Yuri looked back at her, her eyebrows raised. "W-What do you mean?" she asked.

"Poetry," Natsuki replied. "Writing. All that jazz. I know I was just saying 'what-ifs' before, but . . . well, the way you make it out to be, it sounds neat and all. I mean, it's not the first time I considered writing, with all the fanfic ideas I pick up from the manga I read . . . but I've never considered doing it in, like, the same kind of way you do. Like I said, pretty cool."

Yuri nodded. "I see. . . Well, it is worth the try, but it can be tricky if you strive for a certain style. I mean, t-there are always new things to learn about writing, and like I've mentioned before, the inspiration for it doesn't exactly come as often as one would like."

"Maybe, but you live and you learn, right? And as for the inspiration part, it'll still come around eventually." Natsuki shrugged. "I'm just gonna see what happens. Write a few lines, pitch a few ideas to myself, that kind of stuff. Who knows? Maybe I'll turn out to be a natural like you in the end."

"I wouldn't exactly call m-myself a natural," said Yuri, her face flushing a little.

Natsuki let out an amused chortle. "There's no need to be shy. If you've got the talent, show it, right?"

"Well, it d-depends on the kind of talent you have, but yes. I guess it m-makes sense."

"Right? And yeah, it makes you nervous at first, but . . . you just have to own it."

And at that, even as her thoughts wandered back to her initial worries, Natsuki found that she was no longer as panicky as she was earlier. Some nervousness still lingered, of course, but the overwhelming feeling of failure and dread had passed her by, helped on by the unexpected but welcome company provided by Yuri. Far be it for Natsuki to verbally show her sincere gratitude to Yuri at the moment—such expressions feeling incredibly awkward if she directed them at anyone except Daisuke—but she showed her thanks nonetheless in the form of a smile. Yuri smiled back, and Natsuki sensed then that perhaps she also felt the same way.

Daisuke came around when she had finished eating her lunch. He looked both excited and nervous. "Time to bring out the cupcakes, don't you think?"

Natsuki felt her heartbeat rise. This time, however, she felt readier. "Those aren't for dessert, you know?" she told him bluntly.

"I know, I know. The others wanna start serving them now to the visitors."

Natsuki eyed Yuri, who seemed hesitant to speak her mind in this brief exchange. Treating it as a sign of the inevitable to come, she put on her face mask and set aside her finished lunch.

"Alright, let's do this."

* * *

Kenta stood pondering for a moment. The sight had buried itself in his eyes, and as innocent as it seemed if digested without any context, his thoughts still began rising almost inexorably about it. The hours before lunchtime had gone by quite normally, and Kenta had fun going with his classmates around the open field. From knocking down stacks of cans to shooting toy arrows through suspended hoops of varying sizes, they transitioned to watching skits being acted out by costumed schoolmates, laughing and singing along with the music that accompanied everything else. After spending the first couple of hours doing so, Kenta soon began looking for Monika, hoping to run into her somewhere on the open field or near the school buildings in order to share the festivities with her. It was a thought that seemed to go against what he had been dwelling on for the past couple of days.

The words had lingered long after he had moved on from the date, and even from Monika's troubled disposition. Kenta knew that someone as vibrant as her would be able to bounce back from her woes and start again strong, but as much as he wanted to join her again and accompany her as she recovered from the stress she was enduring, her mother's words stood before him like an impenetrable brick wall. Never before had he encountered such an explicit, blunt warning—for what else could it be? Mrs. Steinbeck was no stranger to dealing with trouble, as Kenta deduced from her obvious no-nonsense nature, and he was certain that she found him well within her crosshairs when it came to sensing trouble. Kenta had wondered for a while about what tipped her off. A confession from an employee at the Steinbeck household, questioned under duress by Monika's parents? Some text messages uncovered from Monika's phone while she wasn't around? A few hints from Monika herself, even? The more Kenta guessed, the more he surmised that perhaps Mrs. Steinbeck was just too intuitive to let her daughter's relationship with someone pass. Nonetheless, with his mood running high, he had hoped to find Monika and spend the rest of the day in happiness with her, choosing to worry about the obstacle in their path at another time.

Or at least, that was the plan anyway, until he saw Monika sitting with none other than Takeo at a quiet spot near the gym. Just like that, the sight of them had sent Kenta's newfound enthusiasm plummeting to earth in a fiery crash.

Kenta kept wandering along, trudging down the avenue of booths created around the open field. For ten minutes he had been walking in silence, feeling no drive to seek out anything else to do. It was a far cry from his mood earlier. Strangely, though, even with the thoughts he was having, he did not feel angry, frustrated or even sad. There was no jealousy there, no thought of ire that provoked him to rush forth and have a little debate of his own with the snotty vice president as he sat there chatting with Monika. Instead, only one thing buried itself in his head with seeming infallibility, with the proof of that being supplied by the sight of Monika and Takeo sitting together: that if he wanted to spare Monika any more trouble at home, he would have to honor what her mother had demanded of him. Takeo's presence did not matter, nor would it matter even if it was someone else Monika was sitting with, like one of the silent admirers she had that had talked trash behind his back before. No, it was Monika's worries at school and at home that stood out more, his jealousy and longing be damned. The way Monika had acted during their time at the _Cocoa Connection _had told him a lot of the stress she was under, and of how she could not even share it openly without needing some time alone to recover afterwards. Even as she said later on that everything was going to be alright, Kenta sensed that she was still more burdened than she would like to admit, and he knew that any antics from his end would just aggravate her further, and it was the worst thing in the world for him to see disappointment and frustration once again in Monika's dazzling green eyes as she gazed upon him. Mrs. Steinbeck would be proven right, and Monika would end up being admonished more at home for being distracted by his continued presence in her life. Perhaps that was why anger or dejection played no part in his reactions; the truth of the situation had simply goaded him into feeling a sort of empty resignation about it all, to suck it all up and keep going without complaints or questions, helped along by what he had seen. And amid that resignation, there was guilt, the guilt of knowing that he had chosen to keep his silence and not tell Monika about her mother's words; and the guilt that in spite of his choice to start avoiding her, he couldn't stop his heart from longing for her.

His mood steeped in silent emptiness, Kenta wandered around for a few more minutes until he settled down at a bench next to the school's main building. Only then did he realize that in his search for Monika, his friends had chosen to move on without him. He had yet to see Naoki again somewhere in the jungle of booths and bodies on the open field, or visit Daisuke at their booths for the cupcakes that Naoki had told him about.

It wasn't until he saw Akihiro's familiar visage in the distance that he perked up a little, as if his mind clung onto the sight of a good friend during a time of hollowness like an oasis for the parched. He waved his hand and called out. "Hey, Akihiro!"

It took him a few tries before Akihiro recognized his voice over the din. His green eyes lit up with something akin to relief as he saw Kenta. "Hey there!" he greeted back, jogging towards him on the bench. Kenta noticed that he seemed to be wearing a purple sash of some sort over his uniform, adorned with some cardboard cutouts made to look like medals and crests.

"How's everything? You looked decked out for something there," he asked, nodding at the sash.

"Oh, this is for our scavenger hunt," said Akihiro, tugging at the sash. "I'm playing as a hint-giver for the participants. Nudge them in the general direction with a few clues if they get stumped, that's all.

"That sounds like the perfect time to mess with people," said Kenta with a chuckle. "Tell them the next place they'll need to stop by is downtown, that sort of stuff."

"I'm tempted," said Akihiro, laughing with him. "So, where have you been so far? With Monika? With the rest of the guys?"

Kenta sobered up at the mention of Monika's name. "Just a few of my classmates. Naoki might've already drowned somewhere in there, and Daisuke's at the booths helping out."

"I see." At that, Akihiro also tensed up, as if Kenta's change of mood had gotten to him as well. Kenta looked again at the festival proceedings, not knowing what else to say. Up above them, the sound system played lively songs that seemed to mock their sudden seriousness.

"You okay, man?" asked Akihiro.

At that, Kenta faked a quick smile. "Never better, brother. I'm just . . . I dunno what else to do, to be honest."

"Well, we can all lounge around after the festival. You, Monika, Sayori and the others," said Akihiro. Kenta felt his heart sag a bit more as he heard Monika's name again.

"Speaking of Sayori, you didn't happen to run into her out here just yet, did you?" Akihiro added.

Kenta looked up, noticing the worried tone in his voice as he spoke. "No, I don't think so. What's up?"

"I . . . I haven't seen her all day." Akihiro looked around anxiously, as if he was expecting to see Sayori running towards him then and there. "She hasn't been replying to my messages and calls at all. I don't know, maybe she's just pranking me or something, but I'm sure she'd have shown up by this time."

"Oh, maybe she forgot her phone at her place or something?" Kenta proffered, wondering if this might be something potentially bad. "And maybe she's . . . busy with her classmates or . . . Nah, she'd have to show up to talk to you, at least."

"I know, right? I'm thinking of going to her place to see if she's still there," said Akihiro. "I dunno if I can, though. I mean, I'm already standing in for our scavenger race. . ."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," said Kenta. "I mean, with tons of people around, I don't think anyone'll notice that you went out. Why don't you go for it?"

Akihiro heaved a sigh. "Do you think it's a good idea?"

"Hey, your concern for Sayori takes priority over the festival, alright?" said Kenta reassuringly. "If you wanna make sure she's okay, no one should be stopping you. Besides, what if she actually _isn't _okay? Oh, not that I want you to think she is, of course! I mean, it's just . . . y'know, a what-if. If she hasn't been in contact with anyone since this morning . . ."

Upon seeing Akihiro shift his feet restlessly where he stood, Kenta shook his head. "No, not a good thing to say. I'm sorry about that. I don't want you to be worried sick or anything, man."

"No, it's fine, bro. I've been thinking about that too," said Akihiro. "I mean, I don't wanna think about it too much, but—"

"Go for it, man," Kenta interrupted. "You'll only end up being distracted and worrying if you keep trying to guess where she is. It's better if you check up on her now. Besides, even if she's just fine, she'd appreciate the concern, I'm sure."

After hesitating for a few moments, his face scrunched up with worry and conflict, Akihiro looked towards the school gates. "You're right," he said. "I'm gonna go check on her."

Kenta gave him a thumbs-up. "There we go. And don't worry too much about leaving for a bit, alright? You've got a perfectly good reason to go, so no one should blame you for it. Anyone who tries, they'll hear from me, and I don't care if I'm from a different class. I got your back."

"A-Are you sure about that?"

"Hundred percent."

Akihiro gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks, man."

With that, he set off, hurrying past the press of people as he sidestepped and pushed through them. Kenta wanted to get up and go after him, to accompany him in his short journey to Sayori's place, if only to gain some extended reprieve from his own worries. However, the time for that had passed, and now that he was alone again, he soon found himself thinking of Monika once more. He wondered again what she and Takeo might have talked about and whether she would notice that he was starting to steer clear of her if he could help it. Kenta felt bitterness form in his mouth as the lies and hiding endured. Perhaps in the end, he _would _see disappointment in Monika's eyes again, and go through the pain of knowing that such a reaction was brought by his own doing a second time around.

It was a quarter past two when he decided to pick himself up and go over to 3-D's side of the festival, where Daisuke and Natsuki were. As he walked, the sound system on the open field began playing a new song, with the preliminary notes being played with a piano. As he looked up and listened in to the song's mellow melody, he remembered Monika sitting at her piano at her home. He remembered part of the song she had sung to him before, and his light-hearted jest of having her play for the festival. As he stood there listening for a moment, Kenta wondered if Monika was hearing the song as well, and if she was remembering the same things he was. Sighing, he shook his head and kept walking towards Class 3-D's booths.

* * *

Daisuke could sense the intensity emanating from Natsuki as they brought out the first boxes of cupcakes. He shared her nervousness privately, knowing full well the part he had played in both the baking and in convincing Natsuki in the first place to bake. As nervous as he felt, Daisuke knew he would have to see it through, surmising that his presence would help alleviate Natsuki's worries, and he was prepared to get punched in the arm a hundred times if it meant helping Natsuki feel more confident about the choice he had convinced her to make.

Right before the cupcake giving officially began, Naoki arrived at their booths, carrying with him a hardbound book. Daisuke waved at him, grinning.

"Perfect timing you've got there, man," he said cheerily.

"Cupcake time already, huh?" asked Naoki, smiling back. "Oh, that reminds me. Did you guys see Yuri, by any chance?"

"Yep, she's actually here with us," replied Daisuke, jabbing his thumb towards the back of the booths. "I think she ran into Natsuki earlier, and then she went with her here."

"Great! I've been looking everywhere for her. She left her book at our booths," said Naoki, holding up the book he was carrying. "I guess we'll just stay here for a while before we go back. So, do we actually get a cupcake for visiting?"

"Pop enough balloons over there and you'll each get two," said Daisuke, nodding at their balloon pop display.

"Now that's a nice little prospect indeed. Oh, there you are, Yuri!"

Daisuke turned around to see Yuri and Natsuki returning to the scene from behind the booths. Natsuki looked both resigned and focused as she spotted the box of cupcakes that Daisuke had let out. Meanwhile, Yuri smiled as soon as she saw Naoki.

"Naoki here says you left your book behind," Daisuke asked her.

"Oh, yes! Good thing you found it b-before anyone else did," said Yuri, taking the book from Naoki. "Thank you, Naoki," she added, blushing.

"It's nothing," said Naoki affably, and Daisuke stifled a chuckle as he saw his cheeks turn slightly pink as well.

"So, are you two gonna try out the balloons for a twofer?" he asked them.

"Sure, I'll take you up on that," replied Naoki, walking over to the balloon pop display with Yuri hurrying right beside him. "Let's just hope my aim's not as bad as my eyesight is."

"Ah, you'll probably do fine," said Daisuke, laughing. As some of his classmates gave Naoki a few darts with which to pop the balloons, he turned around to glance at Natsuki, who seemed to be concentrating deeply with a grim look on her face.

"You okay?" he asked.

Natsuki shot him a look. "I'm fine," she hissed. "Is your mom here y-yet?"

"I dunno. She hasn't texted me again just yet. Maybe she'll just show up." Daisuke gave her an encouraging smile. "Don't worry. I'm pretty scared, too."

"I'm not scared," Natsuki snapped. "Make sure that you give those out, you don't smudge the icing against the box, okay?! I don't want anyone getting any cupcakes with messy designs."

"Yes, ma'am," said Daisuke, laughing. "Hey, I'm not trying to make fun of you or anything, okay?" he added quickly as Natsuki glared at him again. "I'm just trying to lighten things up. Keeps our nerves calm, y'know? It's better than panicking, after all."

"Alright, alright," Natsuki grumbled, picking up another of the cupcake boxes. "Just don't screw anything up."

Naoki soon returned from the balloon pop display. "Four out of six popped. I guess that means no twofer for both of us?" he asked, laughing.

"Afraid so," said Daisuke, laughing with him as he set out the box before him. He leaned forward and added in a quieter tone, "We're gonna be giving out the rest randomly, but you get to choose which ones you'll get. Our compliments. Don't tell the others." He glanced around at Natsuki, who gave him her silent approval with a short nod. "So what'll it be? Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry or orange cream?"

"Oh, those look really nice," said Naoki, adjusting his eyeglasses as he perused the box of cupcakes. "Orange cream sounds like a fresh change compared to chocolate or vanilla, though. . . Yep, I think I'll go with that one. How about you, Yuri?"

"S-Strawberry, if you don't mind," Yuri told them, looking at the strawberry cream cupcakes with a small gleam in her eyes.

"Here you go," said Daisuke, handing out the cupcakes at them one at a time. "If anyone asks where you got them, make sure you point them in the right direction!"

"We definitely will," said Naoki, saluting with his free hand. "We'll see you guys later, hopefully. Cheers!"

"T-Thanks," Natsuki joined in rather half-heartedly. Yuri nodded at her, her smile expressing her wordless thanks.

Slowly and gradually, more students began filing in to have a look at their booths, as if Naoki and Yuri had indeed spread the word that there were prizes and cupcakes to be had at 3-D's side of the field. Some chose to buy some of the home-made crafts that their other classmates had made with some complimentary cupcakes to go with them, with the proceeds going to their class funds, while a few tried to test their luck at popping balloons like Naoki did for the chance to score more than two. All the while, Daisuke stayed by Natsuki's side, making sure that she wasn't feeling left alone as she observed the comings and goings of the booth visitors, handing out cupcakes with him. Beneath her mask, her face was unfathomable, and Daisuke had to wonder what her sentiments were as she watched for the visitors' reactions regarding her cupcakes. Some of those who tasted the cupcakes on the spot voiced out only praises and surprise at the flavor and consistency, and though Daisuke stopped himself from prodding Natsuki about it with glee, he felt proud knowing that such praise came from their combined efforts.

His mother arrived at a quarter past two, all smiles in a simple white blouse with a matching black line skirt. Daisuke met her at the gates and escorted her back to their booths, where she met Natsuki with a cheerful air.

"Hello, Natsuki! I hope I wasn't too late in showing up," said his mother as soon as she reached the booths.

"N-Not really, Mrs. Matsuda," said Natsuki. Her unease seemed to return at her arrival, but she nodded cordially nonetheless. "You arrived at a perfect time, to be honest."

"I sure hope so. Hiroko couldn't make it, though – a gathering with her friends from work, she told me." As Daisuke moved back inside the booths, his mother looked around at their wares and displays. "Oh, my! All these look really nice. Are those the banners you made, Dai?"

"Yep," said Daisuke, smiling as he looked up at his handiwork draped over the booths.

"Maybe you should make one for the diner soon. It'd be nice to have a bit more color at the front door like this. Your sister can pitch in a few slogans and whatnot."

"Yeah, maybe I can do that. The ol' wooden sign at the front does seem pretty outdated already. . ."

At that moment, another familiar face appeared in the distance – red hair, tall build, with a basketball jersey beneath his blazer. Daisuke perked up as he saw him. "Oy, Kenta!" he called out. "About time you showed up!"

Kenta grinned as he approached, though Daisuke noticed a heavy look behind his eyes that seemed out of place. Nevertheless, when Kenta spoke, his voice seemed as energetic and boisterous as ever, and the heaviness seemed to dissipate almost instantaneously.

"You could've seen me a lot earlier if we went to school together like I asked last night, you little dolt!" he joked. However, his mirth was soon replaced by embarrassment as he noticed Daisuke's mother. "Oh, g-good afternoon, Mrs. Matsuda!" he greeted, laughing sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to . . . you know . . ."

Daisuke laughed alongside his mother. "That's okay, Kenta. In all your years of knowing each other, I don't think that's the worst name I've heard you call Daisuke," she said in good humor. "It's good to see you. Are you going to play?"

She nodded at his jersey. "Oh, not really, ma'am," said Kenta in reply, staring down at his attire. "Just thought I'd get a bit more comfortable for today. I mean, a lot of us are in costumes and stuff, so I figured a jersey won't get me into any trouble."

"Oh, I see."

"Ah, it's the festival, for crying out loud," said Daisuke. "You can bounce around in a curly wig and a penguin suit and no one would say anything. Anyway, do you want a cupcake? _Only _one, though – we can't have you chowing down on five at a time or else there'll be none left for our other visitors."

"Cupcakes?" asked Kenta blankly for a moment. "Oh, so these are the ones Naoki mentioned earlier, right?"

"Oh, so Naoki told you about them, did he? Yeah, these are the ones. If you want one, just buy all of our crafts and you'll get it."

"Do I look like I have that much money on me, you d—sorry, Mrs. Matsuda."

Daisuke chortled. "Of course I'm joking, you big lug. But like I said, _only _one cupcake!"

In the end, Kenta settled for a chocolate cupcake, declining Daisuke's challenge to try out his antics at their balloon pop festival for two. His mother, on the other hand, chose a strawberry cream one as she bought two cardboard figurines of a cat and a mouse that their classmates had made, musing how cute they would look decorating their front counter at the diner. All the while, Natsuki kept herself occupied—and distracted from her worries, Daisuke knew—as she replaced some of the popped balloons at their display. Daisuke smiled to himself as he watched her work, wishing that the day would end on a high note for her and everyone else who had their own private woes to deal with once the festivities came to an end.


	54. Chapter 54 - The Festival (Part Two)

_A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters._

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR - THE FESTIVAL (PART TWO)**

As another hour passed, Naoki kept hoping that the festival's events and the presence of their friends would be enough to help Yuri feel comfortable. His dedication in staying with her, keeping her company to make sure that she would not feel like an outcast anymore, had evolved to a point where he was starting to actively monitor Yuri's mood in an effort to ensure that she would not encounter anything that would make her feel bad. It was an effort that made him feel odd, as if there was something fake about it all, but he quashed the thought as he knew that his worry about not being able to help was getting to him again. He had also privately felt bad for drawing Yuri away from Class 3-D's booths, knowing that she might have been enjoying a small conversation with Natsuki before he had shown up, but Yuri seemed keener on being with him than anyone else. If that was what she wanted, he was more than willing to be with her for the rest of the day.

Booth duty had been rather superfluous, to say the least; with the amount of willing volunteers who were looking to enjoy the day's events while helping out, Naoki and Yuri were free to roam and explore without the prospect of being called back to help. Because the two of them were fine with where they would be ending up, Naoki knew he could easily let Yuri lead the way and not force her to come along with him, but Yuri's severe introversion meant that _he _had to be the one doing the leading, which was not easy as a fellow introvert.

"Is there anywhere you want to go?" he asked her after a while.

"W-Wherever you go is okay with me," said Yuri timidly as she chewed on her last bite of the strawberry cupcake she had gotten earlier. Her copy of _The Portrait of Markov _was tucked underneath her arm.

"Hmm. . . Well, the open mic concert will be starting soon, I think. Do you want to stay around and watch the first acts?"

"If t-that's what you want."

_This is gonna be a pickle. _Racking his brain for a suitable thing to do, Naoki kept coming up short. The situation between them had improved ever so slightly, with the festival's preceding days giving them a bit of time to recover from that shocking discovery he had made at Yuri's house, but there was still an air of awkwardness and seriousness that hung between them like a thick veil. Naoki was sure that Yuri could sense it, too.

"Do you want to go back?" he asked her at last.

Yuri looked around at him, startled. "What do you mean . . . ?"

"You seemed to be having a nice time talking to Natsuki earlier," said Naoki with a grin. "I think I might've disturbed you two when I showed up looking for you. If you want to go back, and talk to her some more, I'd be happy to oblige you. Maybe I can talk to Daisuke in the meantime."

"Ah, no, t-that's okay," said Yuri, smiling back. "Although I will admit, talking to Natsuki was pretty nice. I talked to her about writing some new pieces about the festival, a-and she told me that she might end up trying it out for herself after listening to me." Yuri let out a nervous laugh. "I never thought that I w-would end up inspiring someone like that, to be honest. . ."

"Well, that's what happens when you're good at something and people see it. You inspire them to do stuff, and it just becomes this cycle of productive positivity. That's good."

"Y-Yes," said Yuri, nodding. "I suppose it is."

All of a sudden, a shrill noise pierced through the air, blaring from the speakers across the open field and cutting off the music that had been playing earlier. Naoki looked up with a start and held up a hand to his ear, as did nearly everyone else. Yuri looked frightened for a moment as she quickly clung to him, prompting Naoki to hold onto her arm instinctively with his free hand, but the noise subsided as quickly as it had come, descending in tone until it became recognizable as that of an electric guitar.

"Oh, the open mic's starting!" a voice in the crowd rang out. Within seconds, others took up the cry, and some students began moving towards the center of the field where the stage for the open mic concert was. Craning his head above the crowd, Naoki saw that a band had already gathered on the stage, sound-checking their instruments one last time as people gathered around them.

At that moment, as he regained his awareness over his surroundings and all that was going on around him, Naoki felt the warm sensation of an arm being firmly grasped in his hand. He turned back to look at Yuri, and the two of them locked eyes. He noticed that she was breathing rather rapidly, a flush creeping up her neck, and she was so close that he could feel her breath caressing his face faintly.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

Yuri nodded, her breath growing shaky. "I'm okay. M-My arm, though . . ."

At that, Naoki glanced down, noticing then just how tightly he was holding on to her—and how, in his excitement, he had failed to notice that it was her left forearm that he was gripping, his fingers bracing exactly where . . . where . . .

"Ah, I'm really sorry!" he cried out, letting go in a flash.

"It's okay," said Yuri, though her words seemed to contradict the way she winced as she ran her right hand down her forearm in a caress.

"Did it h-hurt?" Naoki asked.

"Q-Quite. You have a strong grip, Naoki," said Yuri in reply, though she tried to reassure him with a small smile. Gingerly, she rolled back her sleeve slightly, as if to peek at her scars. Naoki saw then that she had bandaged her forearm rather tightly, and his heart fell when he saw that the top of the bandages were now tinged with red.

"Oh, dear," Yuri muttered quietly, careful not to let anyone hear as she hastily unfurled her sleeve. "Some of the cuts seem to have split . . . B-But it's okay, though!" she added as she noticed his mounting apprehension. "I do this sometimes to myself when I'm not aware," said Yuri. "If you don't mind, though . . . d-do you think you can accompany me someplace where I can clean this up?"

"Of course," said Naoki, ready to make up for the mishap. "Come on."

Yuri directed him towards the restrooms next to the gymnasium, but the two of them stopped when they saw that they had been taken over by a number of students. Some of them were going in and out, intent on either joining the stints for the festival by donning their own costumes or wrapping up their routines for the day as they got dressed back in their uniforms. Either way, there were simply far too many for Yuri to go about her business in private.

"Let's j-just find another place," she told him. "Maybe the comfort rooms at the main building are less crowded."

"No, wait. I think there's a closer spot that we can get to," said Naoki in return.

The spot in question was a small space behind the gymnasium, where there was a maintenance shed. Crates, spare chairs and a few dustbins were there, inadvertently providing cover from any people that chanced to pass by at the gym's covered walks. Naoki guided Yuri by the hand towards the shed's furthest wall, leaving behind the din of the festival as they went until the two of them were safely behind it.

"How did you know about this place?" asked Yuri. "To tell you the truth, I didn't even know that there was a shed here."

"It's a spot where some of our friends would go to in order to skip P.E. activities and stuff," Naoki replied. "I've overheard them talking about it a few times before. Given that they've never been caught, I guess no one except the groundskeeper bothers to come around here often. Anyway, here."

He waved towards a nearby crate, motioning for Yuri to sit. Yuri obeyed, her hands pressed neatly on her skirt as she sat down. "I-Is the coast really clear?" she asked as she set down her _Markov _copy on the ground next to her.

"I think so," Naoki replied, looking around towards the way they came. "Go right ahead and . . . you know, do what you need to do."

Placing a hand on her sleeve, Yuri looked hesitant. _And rightfully so, _Naoki thought. This was, after all, her deepest, darkest secret that she was about to lay bare again, and it felt wrong for him to see it a second time given the inadvertent nature of how he stumbled across it before. Yuri looked at him, her amethyst-like eyes almost twinkling with fearful anticipation. Naoki shifted, ready to leave if she said so.

Yuri instead lowered her gaze and rolled back her sleeve once again, fully exposing her bandaged forearm this time. Alternating his glances between her and the path back towards the open field, as if he didn't want to stare too much at her arm, Naoki saw that the spots where he had gripped her forearm were indeed the ones that were now stained with blood. A twinge of guilt tugged at him at the sight. In contrast, Yuri looked calm—almost resigned, even—as she picked at a corner and began unfurling the bandage. For a moment, Naoki wondered if he should look away for real this time, given the highly sensitive nature of the sight that was about to unfold before him, far different from stains on white sweaters or bloodstained bandages. But before he could make his decision, Yuri had already taken it off.

Naoki said nothing, but he could not stop himself from drawing in a sharp breath. The cuts had indeed burst anew, with the smaller ones beaded with tiny scarlet droplets. The deep ones, though very few, were easily the worst, given how they seemed to glisten wetly in the afternoon light, fresher than they had seemed back at Yuri's house. It spoke volumes to him about Yuri's insecurities and woes, and how severe they had to be for her to even consider cutting herself so deeply like that. Yuri, on the other hand, kept moving as if he wasn't even there, carefully draping the bandage over her knee and reaching into her skirt's pocket. She pulled out a small handkerchief and began dabbing at her cuts, careful not to wipe too hard lest she draw more blood by accident. She winced as she brushed the fabric against her wounds, pain and shame evident in her eyes, and still Naoki was unable to look away.

Again, Yuri reached into her pocket, pulling out a small bottle of alcohol this time. She opened it one-handed, placed the handkerchief against its mouth and tipped it over a number of times, dampening the cloth with its contents. However, the bottle slipped suddenly out of her hand, landing and leaking out droplets of alcohol on the ground. Quickly, Naoki went towards her, knelt down and picked the bottle up. As he was about to hand it back to Yuri, however, he hesitated as soon as he saw that her hands were starting to tremble, showing him why she had dropped the bottle in the first place. He shifted his glance up to her face and saw how pale and utterly uneasy she looked.

"I'm s-sorry," she murmured, swallowing nervously in an attempt to curb her obvious discomfort. "I'm . . . I think I . . ."

"It's okay, Yuri. It's okay," he told her in a kind voice. "Do you want me to . . . t-to help you clean up?"

The offer had come to him almost involuntarily, though in hindsight Naoki knew it was the only offer he could make. As much as he wanted to give Yuri some space, having already stumbled across her secret in an accidental, almost unwarranted way before, a part of him knew that she needed company more than ever right now, and who better to be there for that than him? True enough, sharing literary interests seemed trivial compared to seeing a person's demons, but Naoki would never forget the bond that the two of them had connected with each other's help, nor would he forsake it now that Yuri needed company, possibly more than ever.

"I mean, only if you want me to," he added. "If you're not okay with that, I can give you some space for a bit."

Yuri shook her head. "It's f-fine. If y-you want to help . . . thank you."

Naoki nodded, and with that he inched closer to her. Yuri handed him the handkerchief, her hands still shaking. He took it, dampened it with a bit more alcohol, and carefully began wiping it against her scars. Yuri drew in a sharp breath, but Naoki soothed her by blowing air lightly on the bleeding cuts. The cloth soon began turning red, its fresh medicinal scent dissipating in the cold air between them. The deeper cuts made Yuri shudder even more as she involuntarily twitched her arm backwards, but she forced herself to let it stay atop her knee as Naoki worked in silence. He moved carefully, not wanting to pat the cloth any harder if he could help it, but the pain was still evident as Yuri began breathing raggedly, as if she was about to cry. Somehow, the sound of it made him feel ashamed; ashamed as if he was the one who caused her pain, ashamed of the fact that he had not noticed things sooner, that he did not have all the answers or help that Yuri needed and deserved, just like all the other people he had read about as they shared their real-life experiences on online forums, laying bare their physical, mental and emotional scars for all to see and understand just how deep this kind of trauma and pain ran.

At last, after what felt like an eternity, Naoki stopped cleaning the cuts and scars. He handed the handkerchief back to Yuri and took the bandages that she had worn. His hand curled around hers, he pinned one end of it with his thumb against her pulse and began rewrapping it around her forearm. Yuri's breathing began stabilizing now that the pain had passed, and she made an effort to help him, making sure that everything was wound up both tightly and comfortably. When it was all done, the two of them locked gazes.

Yuri broke the silence by slowly extricating her hand and arm away from him. "It's . . . h-horrible, isn't it? To be like this. For you to s-see me like this. . . I feel like a monster."

"You're not a monster, Yuri," Naoki responded firmly.

"H-How can you be sure?" Yuri clenched her hands, balling them into fists. "I feel so vulgar, so dirty and abnormal . . . and it feels even worse b-because I don't think I can stop doing it. Not anymore, a-at least. I'm scared that I've grown too acclimated, t-too . . . _dependent_ already to this. But I want to try and move past it all, t-to improve. I've stayed clean for a while, and I wanted so desperately to think that it would stay that way for a very long time. After what happened, I wanted to focus on the brighter side, on the things that matter a-and the people who can help me avoid thinking about it, like you most of all . . . b-but it's hard. I keep thinking about the next t-time that it will happen, and if it'll be worse than before. B-Because the hard part about it is that if I b-become too anxious, I just . . . do it. And I don't even know what's w-worse—if I do it because I've lost control over myself, or if I do it b-because I still know enough to _choose_ to do it. It just tears me apart. . ."

She shook her magnificent head, looking terribly distressed. Naoki reached out and took her hand in his again as an attempt to provide comfort. In spite of her pain, Yuri did not shrink away this time, but she did not reciprocate his movements either.

"I keep looking back," Yuri continued. "I keep revisiting my memories, trying to figure out when this all started, because I n-never stopped for once to think about how this began. I-It's kind of like how Libitina did it in _Markov_, y-you know? When she would try remembering with all her might about her past, a-and she would come up short. I think . . . I think that's how it is with me. I can't seem to find any specific experience in the past t-that caused me to be like this. No huge t-traumatic experience, no shameful moment that stood out, nothing. It just . . . happened." She beseeched him again with her amethyst gaze, looking despondent. "Maybe I was always like this. . . M-Maybe I've been abnormal from the start, and that's why people t-tend to look at me funny all the time. Or maybe I'm just making up things f-for attention and p-pity. . ."

"No, that's not true, Yuri," said Naoki. "You're not abnormal, and this is anything but a lie. This is . . . I mean, in this day and age, these kinds of problems are starting to become more noticed precisely because they are very real, and even so, they don't define a person. From what I've read, from what I've seen online, this issue of self-harming . . . it's something that comes from a person's negative experiences just piling up over and over until it becomes too much, and they use it to cope with those problems because to them, it's the only outlet they have that works. We've seen this in literature, right? Remember Curt Morgan in _Dystopium_? Or the Johnsons in _Laughing at the Shadows_? And Libitina from _Markov_, like you said. These themes, centering on these kinds of mental illnesses and disorders . . . they exist in literature because they exist in real life. They're real problems being experienced by real people like you and I. And like any problems, they _can _be addressed. That's what I want to believe in, especially in your case.

"I don't have any words that will make all this better, instantly or otherwise," he continued silently. "I can exhaust everything that I've read so far about all this, about self-harm and such, and I still wouldn't be able to come up with the right words. But I will repeat this nonetheless—no matter what happens, I will be here for you, okay? If you need someone to talk to, if you need company when your anxiety's triggering, you can come to me. I'd be more than willing to stand by you."

"But wouldn't that b-be bothersome for you?" Yuri stammered.

"No, never. You don't have to worry about that, because to me it will never be bothersome. You can talk to me about anything, anything at all, and at your own pace. I won't force you to share anything that you don't feel comfortable sharing, and I won't impose anything on you. Just . . . if you need me to listen, I'm here. If you want to talk about poetry or horror, if you want to make more on-the-spot haikus or go to _The Monocle _again, you can come to me. I'll stay beside you and listen all day if I have to. I promised to help you, and I'll do everything I can to keep that promise. This is something that you don't have to face alone, not anymore."

He squeezed her hand lightly, prompting Yuri to smile as her face flushed with emotion. Naoki could only gaze into her eyes, temporarily overcome with the emotion that he had felt, the words he had been itching to say—and he knew that there was always more to be said in the future, and he was more than happy to repeat them if needed.

"To be honest . . . I don't know what I would do w-without you, Naoki," she whispered. "I think it goes without saying that . . . that I really appreciate e-everything that you've been doing for me."

"You're very much welcome, Yuri," Naoki replied, smiling. He looked around at their surroundings, at how isolated their current location was, and yet there was something oddly comforting about it all. Nevertheless, he asked, "Do you want to go back now?"

Yuri considered for a moment. "I think it's fine if w-we stay here for a bit. Maybe we can read a chapter or two, if you want."

She reached down and picked up her copy of _The Portrait of Markov_, placing it on her lap. "That sounds nice, but . . . I don't have my copy with me again," said Naoki, laughing.

Yuri laughed as well, in that timid tone that made her so innocent and interesting in Naoki's eyes, belying the grim nature of her problems. It only served to reinforce his decision tenfold to be there for her.

"D-Do you want to share again?" she asked, patting her book.

Naoki blushed in spite of himself. "Yes, that would be nice."

* * *

Jogging through the street, his breath rising with each meter he traversed, Akihiro wondered why he was so late in choosing to check in on Sayori. His instincts had been creeping in, planting doubt and worry in his mind gradually until his encounter with Kenta convinced him to finally go out to find her. To his relief, his classmates back at the booths had excused his absence for the scavenger race, choosing someone else to fill in for him while he was gone. Still, Akihiro wanted to be back as soon as possible, and so he quickened his pace as he rounded a street corner, going down at last on the familiar stretch of pavement that led to Sayori's neighborhood. Instinctively, Akihiro began to run at the sight. As much as he wanted to keep giving everything the benefit of the doubt, he could not help but keep tying Sayori's absence to the sadness that she was seemingly prone to feeling nowadays, especially when he was not around.

_I should've walked with her to school. Maybe she was expecting me to be there so we could go together? No, that doesn't feel like it. Maybe . . . Maybe she fell sick and can't get out of bed? Or she's not at home, and instead she ran into some sort of trouble._

At this point, Akihiro struggled with the logic that he was beginning to make mountains out of molehills. Perhaps Sayori was fine, and she really just woke up late and was now going to school. Perhaps by the time he arrived at her place, she would be racing out the door, and they would collide on the staircase and have something to laugh at for the rest of the day. However, he still could not shove aside the thought that something was wrong.

It was a comfort then for him to finally see her apartment in the distance. Akihiro ran even faster, stalling only momentarily to open the front gates and doors instead of barreling straight into them. The caretaker at ground floor greeted him with a smile as he swept the floors with a broom, but Akihiro could only smile back for a split second before he was jogging up the stairs in a flash.

When he was at her unit's door at last, however, Akihiro hesitated; partly to take in a few deep breaths to ease his racing heartbeat, and partly because he had no idea what to say. His mind had been so focused on reaching Sayori's place in time that he didn't even manage to send her a text ahead or plan how he would approach her as soon as he saw her. _How would she react? She might think it's her fault that I ran all the way over here, all worried sick about her. She might end up feeling bad. . ._

Regardless of what Sayori's reaction might be, Akihiro had made his choice already back at the festival. He held his fist out and rapped his knuckles three times against the wood. "Sayori? Sayori, are you in there?" he called out.

The door remained firmly shut. Akihiro knocked once again. "Sayori? It's Akihiro. Are you still sleeping? Wake up, dummy!"

Again, there was no answer. Unable to resist, Akihiro leaned forward and listened with all his might. No sounds could be heard from within. Somehow, that worried him even more.

"Sayori? Is that you in there? It's me, Akihiro!" he cried out, some of his worry creeping into his voice.

When there was still no reply, Akihiro reached out and grasped the unit's doorknob. He gave it a twist, and his surprise put a halt to his worries as he felt the knob move freely; the door had not been locked all this time. Akihiro's heart began beating faster again all of a sudden, thinking on what he should do. If Sayori was indeed inside, she would have already heard him calling out to her, or at least heard the doorknob rattle as he twisted at it. Akihiro closed his eyes for a moment, sighing. As much as he did not want to enter her room like this, with it feeling like a breach of privacy that not even a childhood friend like him can do, he felt that there was no other choice for him to take.

He gently opened the door.

The air inside the apartment unit felt strangely different. Akihiro sensed it as soon as the door opened. No lights were on, and the curtains on the windows had been drawn, so it was dark even if it was still the middle of the afternoon outside. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Akihiro stepped forward almost gingerly. The first thing he noticed was how cluttered the room was, at least compared to the few recent times he had been in it. Admittedly, he had seen worse before, but the messy nature of the room now stood out to him even more, and not necessarily in a good way. Careful not to bump against the small dining table, Akihiro remembered that fateful weekend long ago when he and Sayori decided to take the first big steps of their relationship now, starting with him making breakfast for her in this very unit. The memory of it all warmed his heart a little, but his worry persisted.

Moving towards the bed, he called out again, "S-Sayori?"

But before he could go any further, there she was. Sayori looked lifeless as she lay next to her bed on the floor, her arm only limply touching the stuffed cow that her head rested against, the same stuffed cow that she had won with his help back at the arcade that one time. From the dim light of the unit, Akihiro saw that she was in her school uniform, excluding her blazer and sweater vest. Even odder, her shoes were still on, as if she had forgotten to take them off.

Akihiro quickly flipped the nearest light switch on. His eyes were temporarily struck by the sudden departure of the darkness, but he moved next to Sayori nonetheless, kneeling down on the floor. As his eyesight adjusted to the light, he soon saw that Sayori looked more disheveled than he had ever seen her, alarming him further; her hair was uncombed, with wayward strands and locks here and there, with her red bow sitting askew atop it all. Her uniform's inner shirt was wrinkled, and as he avoided any untoward peeks Akihiro noticed that she had buttoned it up in the wrong places. The only comfort he could derive at the moment was that Sayori was breathing rather peacefully, indicating that she was merely fast asleep. Akihiro swallowed anxiously, wondering if he should wake her up or not, but a quick glance at the nearby clock on the wall reminded him of how pressed for time he might be.

Akihiro reached out and gently began shaking her awake. "Sayori?" he murmured in a low voice.

After a few seconds, he heard her draw in a long breath. Her eyelids fluttered slowly as she leaned up, resting her body on her left elbow. She shook her head drearily and looked up as Akihiro patted her shoulder. In spite of the sleepiness that still gripped her, her eyes widened.

"A-Akihiro?!" she said, drawing back against her bed. "W-What? I . . . You . . . How did you g-get in here?!"

"Hey, it's okay, take it easy," said Akihiro kindly, not wanting to disconcert her further. "You left the door unlocked, that's how."

"The door?" Sayori glanced at her unit's door, looking slightly confused as her wits adjusted against her lingering drowsiness. Slowly, realization dawned on her face. "Oh! I-I think I forgot to lock it last night!"

"I think so, too." Akihiro smiled, though he was also privately shaken by the idea that Sayori had potentially left herself at risk by leaving her door unlocked all night. Still, now was not the time to scold her for any lapses. "It's okay, though. I arrived just now because I wanted to check on you. I've been trying to call and text you all day."

Sayori looked at him again, her breath rising. "You were?" she asked, looking scared all of a sudden. "I . . . I couldn't hear my phone. I just fell asleep. I-I don't even know how long I've been sleeping. . ." Slowly, a mixture of horror and realization dawned on her face. "The festival! Oh, no! W-What time is it?"

"Well, it's a quarter past two, if you wanna know," said Akihiro, looking again at the wall clock behind him. "What happened here? Why are you, like . . . ?"

As she attempted to regain her bearings, Sayori glanced around her room, as if she was seeing everything for the first time in a harried stupor. She put her hand on her bed for support, as if she contemplated standing up, but her body gradually grew limp all over again. Feeling disconcerted by her sudden changes in mood, Akihiro scooted slightly closer to her.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked. "What's the—?"

Sayori bowed her head, her lip quivering. Akihiro felt the words catch in his throat at the sight. If Sayori looked defeated before, she looked even more crushed now as tears suddenly trickled from the corners of her eyes.

"S-Sayori? What is it? Why are you . . . ?"

Hastily, Sayori wiped away the tears with the back of her hand, though more soon leaked out before she could even try stopping them. She attempted to smile at him, but the obvious unhappiness on her face caused the expression to curdle like spoiled milk. The sight of it brought back trepidation in Akihiro's core, creeping up on him until he felt chills running through his spine.

"Did something happen?" asked Akihiro, his worry reaching its fever pitch. The same troubling energy he had been feeling when Sayori was having nightmares has now returned in full force, though this time he sensed that it could be even worse. "Sayori, come on, you can tell me, okay? What happened to you?"

Sayori shook her head, a sob almost escaping her lips as she sucked in a breath to try and steady her voice. "I remember," she said in a small voice. "I remembered just now . . . I'm sorry, it's a stupid thing, really. . . I've just b-been careless all over again. . ."

"Careless? Sayori, what do you mean? W-What happened?" Akihiro insisted, his mind already racing. As much as he didn't want to force Sayori to talk in such a state, his concern was dictating him to get to the root of the matter.

Sayori wiped away some more tears before she spoke up again, her voice quaking. "I went out last night. I . . . I picked up the m-money Mom sent me. Y-You know, for my allowance and the rent. It's just the usual. I go to the nearest ATM, pick it up, tell her I got it, that's it. B-But when I woke up, I couldn't . . . I couldn't find the money anywhere."

Akihiro stared at her for a few moments, digesting the information in silence. Somehow, he felt that he was expecting an entirely different matter that was bothering Sayori, though he had also wondered what she had meant by "careless." Based on his experiences with her, he had equated Sayori with the word carelessness before, but that had been the kind of carelessness that he had grown to associate her with, the innocent type often possessed by someone as bubbly and childlike as she was—forgetting to bring an important assignment to school, saying things out of hand when she gets too excited, breaking objects when she gets too distracted to hold onto them properly, that was what Akihiro was familiar with. This, however, with her evident despondence and the fact that she was so obviously distracted by her woes that she had forgotten to lock her door for the night . . .

Sayori quailed beneath his gaze, as if she was expecting him to react violently for some reason at her admitted ineptitude. She went on with a miserable tone. "I don't r-remember where I put it, or if I dropped it somewhere out there, if it got stolen or something, I don't know. I tried looking for it again t-this morning—like, maybe it's just somewhere in here, and I'm just not looking hard enough, but . . . I guess I just fell asleep while I was at it. I've been up all night trying to find it and . . ." She sighed. "It's stupid, right? Just another s-stupid mistake I had to make. Mom's gonna be so mad at me for losing that money, I can already tell." She shook her head again, her voice starting to waver. "I feel so useless right now. . ."

"Hey, don't say that," said Akihiro. "You don't have to beat yourself up over that."

"Why not?" Sayori insisted as she stifled another sob. "It's true, right? I just mess up so badly s-sometimes, and when I do, it's always something big. Mom's gonna kill me. I just know it."

"No, don't think about it that way, okay? J-Just . . ." Akihiro fumbled with his words, wondering what else he could say to try and comfort her. "I don't know, but it's okay, though. I thought something else had happened to you, t-to be honest. . ."

Sayori gave him a pained look. "You're worried about me again, a-aren't you?"

Akihiro paused for a moment, sensing what was coming as he remembered Sayori's sentiments about his concern before. Still, a lie would not do, not when Sayori was this troubled.

"Of course I am, Sayori. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't want you to be worried like this!" Sayori scooted away from him, as if she did not want to sully his vicinity with her presence, and she bunched herself up against the edge of her bed and Mr. Cow behind her. "Y-You said that you came all the way here from school to check on me when you're s-supposed to be at the festival, r-right? What if you get into trouble because of m-me?"

"Sayori, listen—"

"No! This is my fault! First I lost Mom's money, and now this? I can't do anything right! W-Why can't I just take care of my problems on my own, without bothering you or anyone else? I really am useless. Just a hopeless, careless, s-stupid little . . ."

Her words faltering, Sayori began to cry, turning her head away from him. Akihiro felt helpless as he watched her cry. It was not just sadness, but also self-loathing and frustration that colored the sounds of her sobs. Again, it was an upsetting shock compared to the degree of joy that the two of them had been through only recently. Akihiro wondered for a moment if this was a pattern that was starting to take off, but he dismissed the thought vehemently, not wanting to breathe enough life into it to the point where it actually became true.

Following the only option he had at the moment, he scooted over to Sayori and gently pulled her into an embrace. Sayori resisted at first, trying to swat his arms away as if she did not deserve any semblance of comfort from him right now, but her emotions soon got the better of her as she let herself fall onto him.

"It's okay, Sayori. It's okay," he whispered, stroking Sayori's head comfortingly as she wept into his shoulder. He guided her gently as he leaned back against her bed for support. "We'll figure something out for that money, yeah? Don't worry. Maybe it's just around here somewhere. I'll help you look later if you want."

"Y-You don't have to. . ." Sayori whimpered. "You don't. . ." But Akihiro simply shook his head and tightened his embrace. The minutes soon passed, and as Sayori's sobs began to die down at last, Akihiro began thinking of a way to start distracting her from her current predicament.

"If you're still feeling up to it, you can come with me back to school," he told her in an encouraging tone, still stroking the back of her head. "You know you're missing out on the food at the bazaar, right? Seriously, the stuff they're serving—yakisoba, takoyaki, and there's even some of the korokke that you love—I keep looking at it all, and I just end up remembering you."

There was silence for a moment before Sayori looked up at him, her eyes red from her tears. ". . . T-There's korokke?"

Feeling grateful that she had calmed down, Akihiro grinned. "That and a lot more, like I said. We can go back together, and I'll treat you to anything that you want. Do you like that?"

Sayori shook her head. "Not if you're going to spend your own money again," she muttered sullenly.

"Sayori, you don't have to worry about me that much, okay? I'm okay with it. Until we find your allowance, it's my treat, and I promise that I won't make fun of you for it. Besides, you haven't eaten lunch yet, right? You can't enjoy the festival on an empty stomach, you know?"

Sayori said nothing for a moment. Her eyes still looked deprived of any joy or resolve, but Akihiro knew that her hunger was something she couldn't simply set aside. Akihiro kept stroking her head, combing and smoothing out any wayward locks with his fingers. When he was done, he began drying up her remaining tears with his thumb. Releasing her breath in a small hiss, Sayori reached towards his hand and held onto it tenderly.

"So what'll it be?" he asked her softly. "Do you want to go back?"

Sayori looked up at him. The smile she gave him was slightly better than the broken one she attempted before, but the sad, tired and tearful look in her eyes still persisted, depriving the air of innocent radiance that Sayori often had.

"Ten more minutes?" she asked quietly.

Akihiro smiled back as he brushed a lock of hair away from her cheek. Staring at her like this, he knew that Kenta was right—his concern took priority over the urgency of the festival, or even any other matter right now.

"Take all the time you need."

"T-Thank you. . ." At that, Sayori lowered her gaze and rested her head against him once again, letting out a dejected sigh as she did, but her hand never left his in spite of that. As he watched her close her eyes, Akihiro knew that the business with her lost money was a lot more problematic than he would like to believe, but seeing Sayori in such a vulnerable state made him stick to his guns. Again, he whispered to himself that same promise he had made long ago, with Sayori's head resting against him in the aftermath of despondency. He rested his head against hers, savoring her warmth, letting her know that he was still there, feeling more at ease as he felt her fingers curl even tighter around his in response.

* * *

Like a hawk, Natsuki had kept observing shrewdly for anything in her surroundings that gave her the slightest hint of something negative. Students came and went, as did Mrs. Matsuda before them, all drawn by a combination of word of mouth and attraction towards their booths. Their wares and the balloon pop display all seemed secondary when compared to the attraction that had drawn people to them in the first place—the cupcakes. Everyone who left their booths with a cupcake in hand, Natsuki monitored closely. Given that her years' worth of experience in dealing with people who shallowly patronized or ridiculed her interests had given her a knack of sniffing out reactions, she was bound to see many similar expressions today. After all, she had not been present during the first time she had baked for a school event, and perhaps her class adviser had simply lied about people loving her cupcakes in an effort to avoid hurting her feelings.

But the more she observed, the more she became confused, almost flabbergasted. Smiles. Compliments. Surprise once the visitors found out that she had been the one who baked the same cupcakes they tasted. Mrs. Matsuda had been a given, though Natsuki could not help but feel extremely elated nonetheless by her compliments earlier, but with these students, her fellow schoolmates, their praises were of a different experience for her. She stood back, unable to respond to their words with anything more than a simple nod and a word of thanks, eagerly reciprocated by the patrons who were all too happy to have tasted such treats and commend her for her work. Natsuki reeled in silence, still rather numbed to the positivity by her own pessimism to even digest that yes, just as Daisuke had been positing all along, in spite of her own doubts, people would end up liking if not outright loving her baking. And here she was, witnessing what seemed to be the absurd, the distant, the unbelievable.

"H-Here you go. Thanks for visiting," she muttered to another visitor who had bought a pair of coasters that some of their classmates had knitted, handing her a strawberry cream cupcake. The girl—an upperclassman, no less, and one of many already—took a bite of the cupcake and immediately cried out, "Whoa, this is really nice. Did you guys make these?"

"Well, _she _did most of the work, to be honest."

"That's really cool," the girl responded, smiling at Natsuki. "Thank you!"

When she stared around at him, Daisuke merely smiled at her and moved on to other things. Of course, he had been beside her all the way, helping her hand out the cupcakes and only too eager to inform visitors that Natsuki was the hand that made the desserts they were being given. Natsuki had resented him for that in the first few minutes after Mrs. Matsuda had left, not wanting him to draw any unwanted attention to her and deepen her embarrassment any more than she needed, but once the initial compliments started coming in, Natsuki's resentment slowly ebbed away. Daisuke, on the other hand, did not poke fun at her even once about it all. Instead, he simply did what he needed to do and asked if there was anything that Natsuki needed help with. And even though he dropped into their neighboring booths every once in a while to help make more balloons for their display or take out more of their DIY wares to replace sold ones, every time a visitor dropped by Natsuki's spot for a cupcake, he would be there to keep her company.

When there was a lull in the arrival of visitors, Natsuki sat down on the chair behind her and exhaled, feeling rather overwhelmed. At that, some of her classmates from the other booths approached her. Natsuki looked up as they walked closer.

"Natsuki?" one of them called out.

"Yeah? What is it?" Natsuki muttered, raising her eyebrows at them.

Her classmate hesitated with a glance at her fellows. Natsuki could not help but think that they were reluctant in voicing whatever they wanted to say due to her reputation—that, and the uninviting air of the mask on her face.

"Is it true? Did you bake all these cupcakes?" the girl finally asked.

Natsuki paused for a moment before nodding. "Didn't Daisuke tell you guys already?"

"Well . . . we thought he was joking, to be honest," another replied with a nervous laugh. "I mean, I've been classmates with Daisuke before, and he can be a bit of a joker."

"Yeah, that's true." Natsuki looked behind her classmates towards Daisuke, who was chatting with someone in the other booth. "Is that all you wanna ask?"

"Ah, not really. We were wondering if . . . if we could talk to you about baking some more."

Natsuki sat up straighter. "W-What do you mean?"

"Well, the thing is that we're talking to the class officers about this small party that we might be having around the middle of December, before Christmas. Nothing too grand, just a day where we can all eat and have fun as a class. Tadano and the rest of the officers are considering it, and we've been helping them plan what the food will be if ever."

Narrowing her eyes, Natsuki knew where they were going. "You want me to b-bake again, this time for the party, right?"

"Yes," replied her classmate, looking rather relieved. "It's just that . . . well, when we tasted one of your cupcakes from the batch you gave the class, we were just blown away."

"Did Daisuke put you up to this?" Natsuki hissed, shooting another glare at Daisuke's back.

"No, not at all!" her classmates said quickly, scrambling to clarify things in unison. "No, it was just a thought we had after tasting your cupcakes—like, everyone who tasted them absolutely _loved _them, and we're sure that those who didn't get to taste any would agree once they do. Anyway, everyone who's willing is gonna bring something for the party—potluck, utensils and plates, stuff like that. Those who can't bring food are ready to just chip in some money like they did for the festival, so you won't have to worry about the ingredients or anything. And if you need any help in the baking, we're ready to help!"

"But of course, if you don't want to do it, it's okay," one of them reassured her. "Your help for the festival is enough."

"Definitely," added another. "I think this is the most we've had from the cultural festival in terms of money and visitors, and your baking's a big part of what made that happen."

Natsuki stared at their faces—none of them looked to be joking, and they kept looking at her with that same mixture of eagerness and reluctance, most likely because they didn't want her to be incensed at their invitation but were nonetheless hoping that she would accept. It was a surreal feeling, to witness people who were only casual acquaintances before now approaching her with genuine intentions instead of just outright patronizing her talents with a lack of seriousness. It was in the same vein as the praise she got from Daisuke's friends, or from Mrs. Matsuda and her suggestion that she could sell her work if she wanted to.

"I'll think about it, o-okay?" she finally declared. "I don't want to promise anything, but if things aren't too hectic, maybe . . . yeah, maybe I can do it."

At that, her classmates' faces lit up. "Sweet! Thank you so much, Natsuki!"

"We'll update you about this in the future. If we finally set down the date, we'll do everything we can to help you prep!"

Natsuki waved her hand at them, feeling heat creep up her face and ears. "Yeah, yeah, sure thing," she muttered. "Thanks f-for asking me first, too."

When her classmates had gone back to their duties at the booths, Daisuke returned at last, sitting beside her with a smile. "So, how's everything going so far?" he asked.

Natsuki shot him a look. "You didn't t-tell anyone in class that I'd be willing to bake for that party they're planning before Christmas, are you?"

Daisuke raised his eyebrows blankly. "Wait, what? I didn't say anything."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Of course!" Daisuke quickly raised his hands, as if to prove his innocence. "I mean, I know that they're planning a party and all, but I didn't tell them anything like what you mentioned. Why are you asking?"

Natsuki sighed. Though she had guessed as much, she had wanted to confirm it nonetheless, her skepticism unwilling to let her believe all of it even for a moment. "They want me to bake for the party. I didn't promise anything just yet, but I . . . I told them I'll see if I can."

"Wait, so they actually requested that you bake?" Daisuke's surprise was merely another confirmation. "That's . . . well, I hope that's okay with you. I mean, I thought this was just a one-time thing for the festival. I didn't expect them to, y'know, ask like this. . ."

"I know, right?" Natsuki paused for a moment, feeling her heart beating slightly faster, and yet it was not out of any anxiousness or discomfort on her part. Rather, it was different, almost . . . _positive_.

"E-Excuse me." And with that, she stood up, circled around back outside the booth and bolted towards the restrooms at the gymnasium.

She exhaled a sigh of relief as she saw that there were very few people now at the restrooms, but Natsuki looked beyond them, not having any business in the girls' comfort room. Instead, she raced past the few students that were coming out, darted behind a spot that shielded her from the view of the open field, and pressed her back against the wall there. Only then did she let her tears fall.

It was a very cathartic feeling for her—the praise, the encouragement, the gratitude, all of it. Natsuki breathed deeply, but she found herself unable to stabilize her breaths as she began to sob. She took her face mask off, useless now that there were no people about, and wiped her tears with its fabric, but more kept coming. She laughed, steeped in disbelief at first as she saw how utterly contradictory the expression was to her crying, but she kept it up nonetheless, the sound of her laughter a silent celebration of relief and comfort and joy that often eluded her in the bleak life she led. Her shoulders shaking from her sobs, her hands trembling, she sank down against the wall and kept weeping and laughing, remembering every little thing that led up to this day, this moment. She remembered the bits that made it all even better—Mrs. Matsuda's continued kindness, her classmates' newfound admiration for her baking, Yuri's company, Daisuke's presence. Unbidden, she looked up towards the sky and remembered the memory of her mother alongside it all, and she felt more tears form at her eyes and fall down her cheeks.

"Natsuki?"

Natsuki looked around, knowing that any pretense was pointless now that she was caught crying and unable to clean up her tears in time, but it was only Daisuke who was standing some distance away. _Of course he followed me_, Natsuki intoned in her mind. She took a deep breath again, wiping the wetness of her nose with her sleeve, and looked over at him standing some distance away.

"W-What?" she said, her voice hiccupping slightly as she tried to sound firm.

"Are you okay?" asked Daisuke, walking closer to her.

"I'm fine," Natsuki muttered, standing up quickly and facing him in spite of her tears and vulnerability.

Daisuke placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Natsuki looked up at him, her watery eyes boring deep into his. Against the brightness from the open field compared to the dark corner she had chosen, Daisuke seemed to glow like an angel in her eyes. Then again, perhaps he always did.

"Look," he said, the contrite expression on his handsome face telling Natsuki the reason why he had come rushing after her. "I . . . I didn't expect things to turn out like this, and I think that it might've caused you a bit of discomfort or something. If you're upset, I understand, and I'm sorry. Baking for the festival . . . it might've just caused you more trouble than you need. Just—"

Wordlessly, Natsuki pulled him into a big embrace and buried her face in his chest. It was snug, tight, innocent, like a child expressing their love and affection towards a parent or loved one. Daisuke fell silent, and Natsuki, with her face pressed against him, could only feel his warmth and smell his fragrance, unable to guess what his reaction was at the moment. Footsteps echoed around them as people came and went alongside the restrooms, but Natsuki did not care anymore during that moment; her father, his shady friends, the bleakness of her room, the pain she had gone through, none of them mattered in those precious few seconds. It was the happiness that filled her, the realization that so much had changed and come her way—and the people as well, with Yuri and Naoki and their other friends—after she chose not to push Daisuke away during their first day at school, and partly because Daisuke also chose not to give up on her, and she could not thank him enough for that.

When Daisuke tried to speak again, he sounded even more nervous. "N-Natsuki?"

Natsuki could only breathe into his chest for a few seconds, her tears drying against his uniform. She could almost sense his heart beating within him, its perceived rhythm lulling her into that sense of security and joy that she often sought in him regardless of how much she would deny it during more sober, somber days. She clutched his jacket, digging her fingernails into the fabric.

When she finally chose to look up, her face was relatively dry at last, though still flushed with the sheer openness with which she embraced Daisuke so tightly, so fiercely. Daisuke, meanwhile, could only stare down at her, his face equally pink, his amber eyes filled with emotion. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if he wanted to say something but could not quite get it out.

"You don't have to apologize or anything. You did nothing wrong, doofus," she murmured to him, forestalling both his bewilderment and his attempt to speak. "I was just really, really happy. . ."

"H-Happy?" asked Daisuke.

"Yeah. For everything you've done. For showing me that I can do all this, and helping me see that everything's not as bad as I keep thinking it is. F-For giving me hope that everything can become better."

She took a deep breath, blinking back the fresh tears that were coming. "Ugh, this is gonna sound so cheesy, b-but . . . I'm really, _really _thankful that I met you."

Daisuke could only smile as he stared deep into her eyes, the emotions on his face rising to a feverous pitch. His hand trembling, he reached up and stroked her cheek. Natsuki drew in a sharp breath as his touch tickled her face, but she didn't shrink back from it. She felt his thumb run across the spots where her bruises had been, caressing them so softly. Becoming lost in emotion again, she could only vaguely notice that Daisuke's handsome face was inching closer to hers, her tears drying coolly against his warm breath. His eyes were so close, her face reflecting off of their amber sheen . . .

"What is this?!" a loud voice suddenly rang out.

Shocked out of her blissful reverie, Natsuki drew back in a flash. Daisuke did the same, jolting from his spot and looking around behind them wildly. Natsuki followed suit, expecting to see a student or two staring at the two of them with knowing gazes and grins, having witnessed the mushy moment that transpired—or almost transpired—between them, but there was no one there. Instead, the same voice that startled them had come from the neighboring restroom.

"Saké? Really? You guys are actually friggin' _drinking_ in here?!"

"Hey, keep it down, Hinata! It's not like it was easy sneaking this whole bottle to school!" a second voice replied.

"And what're you so pissed about? It's not like we're gonna get caught—unless you keep yelling and shit!"

"It's not about getting caught and stuff, you idiots! Why didn't you tell me sooner?! I'm out there working my butt off with these flyers while wearing _this_ and you're all just chillin' here with a bottle without me? Gimme some of that!"

At that, raucous laughter resonated from within the restroom, drowning out the erstwhile conflict within. Natsuki heaved a huge sigh of relief at the realization that she and Daisuke had just dodged a bullet of sorts. She turned back to him with an apologetic laugh.

"Idiots," she muttered, shaking her head. The afterglow of their brief moment had started fading away, and as she looked up at Daisuke's smiling face, she couldn't help but notice that there was a slightly disappointed look in his eyes. Natsuki could not blame him; the circumstances, so reminiscent of typical anime clichés, peeved her a bit in spite of her relief.

"A-Anyway, do you wanna go back now?" he asked, scratching his head. "The guys might be looking for us. . ."

"Oh! Y-Yeah, sure thing. . ." Natsuki replied. She wiped her face dry with her face mask once again before going to put it back on. However, she paused for a moment, thinking.

Without a word, she turned, stood on her toes, and gave Daisuke a kiss on the cheek.

Daisuke froze where he stood as Natsuki felt her lips touch his warm skin. And then, without waiting for his reaction, without waiting to realize if she had kissed him farther from or closer to his lips than she had expected, she put her face mask back on and raced back out to the open field, her heart racing at a million miles an hour all over again. Again, her mask saved her a lot of trouble as she smiled to herself, savoring the embarrassment brought by such a daring act in private. It was all worth it, she knew, and though she might never hear the end of it from Daisuke or from her own self once she was alone in her room to mull over it all over again, she couldn't care less with how ludicrously blissful it made her.

When Daisuke returned to the booths a few minutes after she did, their other classmates spoke up. "Whoa, what happened to you, man? You're red as heck!" one of them asked.

Natsuki locked eyes with him briefly as he looked over at her, turning red beneath her face mask as well. She smiled, and she could tell that Daisuke knew of the expression even if it was hidden.

"I-It's nothing," said Daisuke, his giddy tone an obvious contrast to the nature of his reply.

* * *

With mild amusement laced with a bit of resignation, Kenta found himself watching the open mic concert from the sidelines. In festivals past, he would often watch such performances up close with his classmates and friends, half-singing and half-shouting along with the bands and inspiring his peers to do the same. Still, the mood for merriment remained elusive, and in spite of the infectious excitement of the other students who were beginning to enjoy the vocal performances of their schoolmates onstage, Kenta saw no need to follow suit. Instead, he settled for a more silent approach, bobbing his head occasionally with the beats resonating from the speakers and mouthing any lyrics he knew in complete silence. And as he did so, he wondered why he had not chosen to go home yet—after all, the absence of one disheartened student seemed to be insignificant compared to the crowds around the open field. But Kenta still chose to stay, unmoving from his spot, looking back at merrier times and being only able to smile at their memory. The chocolate cupcake he had gotten from Class 3-D had been comforting, but after finishing it in four bites, that comfort soon faded away.

During a brief lull in the concert as a new band took to the stage, Kenta looked behind him and glanced up at the school's main building behind him. He had seen Monika walk back in earlier, most likely to oversee another meeting for her club as the nationals loomed closer for them. He had wanted to talk to her then, to at least find comfort in the conflict he was feeling by simply being with her, but seeing her surrounded by some of her fellow club members—and with Takeo following as well—had deflated his hopes further. And so, Kenta could only shake his head, tell himself to suck it up, and go find something else to do that wasn't as dreary as going home just to mope in his room alone. Daisuke and the others would object to his sadness, he knew, but given that they were busy one way or another, the prospect of asking them to go on an impromptu jaunt downtown after the day's end seemed distant.

"Look who it is! Yamaguchi!"

Kenta looked around. The call had not come from one of his classmates in 3-C or a friend from the other classes; instead, a group of four boys were headed towards him, the smiles on their faces presaging the negative intentions of bullies who had just spotted prey. Kenta eyed them all in silence—they were upperclassmen, judging from the patches on their blazers, and though he didn't personally know any of them, he could tell from the tone of their voices that he might have heard them make jeers at him in the corridors before.

"Fancy seeing you here all alone, Yamaguchi," said the speaker, who was in the center of the group. "Your friends leave or something?"

Kenta closed his eyes; as frustrated as he felt, he was in no mood to pick fights. Instead, he directed all of his focus towards the concert, trying to drown out any insults or side comments that were coming. However, it did not help that the speaker reminded him slightly of Takeo Kimura, with his dark hair and that lazy, condescending look in his eyes.

"Look at all those monkeys on the stage," the upperclassman went on, gazing where Kenta was looking. "What say you teach them a thing or two about showing off, Yamaguchi?"

"I don't think so," Kenta muttered.

"Hey, come on, man," the tall one with sandy brown hair called out. "We're just having a bit of fun here! Besides, it doesn't seem like you're having too much fun yourself."

"Yeah, usually you're making a hell of a lot of noise," added another—a muscular one with a shaven head whom Kenta recognized as a member of the school's basketball varsity team. "What's stopping you from going nuts today?"

"Look, I'm not in the mood for any of this, alright?" Kenta said firmly. "Just leave me alone."

"Aw, man. You sound pretty upset," said the brown-haired one mockingly. He stood in front of Kenta, blocking his view of the concert. "What, did Monika run off again or something?"

Kenta felt his anger rise at that, but he could only ball his fists and fume in silence. The band on the stage were playing a loud guitar riff now, and he willed his ears to listen with all their might to it, but the seniors' voices seemed almost deafening by comparison. Students passed by, blissfully unaware of the conflict brewing. Kenta knew that he could not count of any of them to help or bail him out in case fists started flying—not that it was his only option at the moment, though listening to all the grating words and staring at the contemptuous smirks was starting to make him reconsider keeping his peace.

"What's the problem, Yamaguchi?" the upperclassman asked, his tone growing more serious. "You got something to say?"

"Not to a dolt like you," Kenta growled. A sneer crossed the senior's face, but as he opened his mouth to retort . . .

"There you are, Kenta!"

Kenta looked around, his eyes widening and his temper grinding to a screeching halt. Monika was walking towards him, all smiles and ever resplendent. He wondered for a moment why she was outside already, or why she was suddenly approaching him out of nowhere. The upperclassmen stood aside as she passed, scratching their heads as if they hadn't just been caught pestering and provoking Kenta, but Monika paid them no heed as she walked past them.

"I was looking everywhere for you," she said as she stopped in front of him. "Shall we go?"

"U-Uh . . ." Still surprised out of his wits, Kenta stood up involuntarily. "Go w-where?"

"Anywhere, silly." Monika beamed sweetly. "I'm sorry if I kept you waiting. The meeting just got done."

The upperclassman, who only moments before was standing so haughtily in front of Kenta, looked both nervous and embarrassed as he attempted to cut in. "H-Hello there, Monika!"

Monika glanced at him, as if it was the first time that she noticed him standing next to her and Kenta. "Hello there," she said with a polite smile, the kind a person would reserve for the most casual of encounters. Before the senior could say anything else, she turned back to Kenta, sidled up next to him and took his arm in hers. Kenta felt his face burn up.

"Come on," she told him cheerfully. "A date's a date, yes?"

"Y-Yeah, I guess," Kenta managed to say at last, giving her a sheepish grin. With that, Monika led him out of the lions' den, acting as if the upperclassmen were nothing more than mere signposts set up for the festival as they passed by. As Kenta dared to look back, he saw only flabbergasted looks and mutinous glares on his erstwhile adversaries' faces, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling rather triumphantly.

When the two of them had walked as far away from them as they could, Monika turned to him with a more serious look on her beautiful face. Kenta knew that her overly saccharine approach earlier was a way for her to brush aside the troublemakers and pay them back for their actions, but there was still that genuine aspect about the sweetness she showed him.

"Are you okay?" Monika asked, the concern in her tone causing Kenta to blush even more.

"I'm alright," he muttered. "I didn't know that you'd pop up out of nowhere like that."

"Well, I really was looking for you after our meeting, that part was true," said Monika earnestly. "That's when I saw those guys giving you trouble."

"So you heard everything they said?"

Monika nodded, a worried look crossing her eyes. "People can really be awful sometimes. I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't be. It's not like you were the one trying to pick a fight with good ol' me," said Kenta, attempting to work up some reassurance to ward off Monika's worries, but he only sagged inwardly when he remembered everything he had been thinking about earlier.

"I thought you'd be busy for a lot longer, though," he went on more quietly. "I mean, I saw you earlier and all when you guys were having a break."

"Oh, really?" asked Monika. "I don't think I spotted you, though."

"Yeah, I was with a few of my buddies. We were pretty far off from where you were," Kenta lied. "And even if you spotted me, I wouldn't wanna waste your break time before you went back for your next meeting."

"Oh, I see. Yes, I can already feel the tension rising for January, to be honest." Monika let out a tired sigh. "It's going to be really hectic for the next few weeks for everyone. I just hope no one snaps under the pressure."

"They won't. Not when they've got you as their leader," Kenta proffered.

Monika let out a short, genial laugh. "If only they knew how heavy their leader has it. . . But no, I shouldn't be saying these things. I should just keep a cool head and work through this. As long as I stay strong, everyone else will."

"That's the spirit," said Kenta. "And make sure you keep Wonder Boy Takeo under control before he goes all 'I'm-smart-so-obey-me' on you guys," he added with a bit of vehemence.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure of that," Monika assured him, smiling at his brief display of annoyance. "Besides, Takeo seems to be playing it cool. We talked for a bit earlier, and he told me that he was planning to get us all some nice accommodations at Tokyo for the competition."

_So that's what you two were discussing when you were alone together_, Kenta almost blurted out, right before he willed his mouth to slow down. "So he's gonna be booking you guys a hotel or something?" he asked instead.

"Yes. I mean, we were going to do that anyway once we've planned everything out, but Takeo's just gonna save us the trouble by securing everything for us. And then after that, he said that we can all go somewhere nice to unwind after the competition."

Kenta nodded, his mind mulling over the thoughts and keeping his inner turmoil at bay. He knew that Takeo may be trying to butter up Monika for something in his favor, given that he was as attracted to Monika as many boys were and was trying to both show off and make up for his past transgressions as an overbearing officer, but Kenta also knew that Monika would never reciprocate no matter what Takeo may attempt. It was with some small measure of comfort that he focused on that thought, knowing that the sight of Monika and Takeo sitting together had no underlying connotations. Still, the mere fact that Takeo could talk to Monika freely and make such plans with her made him feel jealous, and the knowledge that a model student like Takeo could easily win her mother's favor whilst he was being shooed off as a distraction was an unfair truth that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A particularly loud song began booming around them as a band of sophomores took to the stage for the concert, their electric guitars screeching and their costumes standing out garishly as they played to the tune of heavy metal. Some students began flocking towards the stage to watch the performance, laughing and cheering at the audacious nature of the band, while some teachers who were present looked unsure as to whether they should ask the musicians and others after them to tone down their routine. Kenta and Monika looked on at them, with Monika laughing at how lively the band was playing. Kenta, on the other hand, snorted with private amusement. _A bunch of monkeys going nuts on stage. Yeah, those dolts weren't wrong. I'd definitely fit up there._

Monika braced his arm, seemingly noticing his seriousness. "Kenta? Are you okay?" she asked him once again.

"Yeah," Kenta lied, ready with his fake smile. "I'm just hungry, that's all. I haven't eaten anything for lunch yet."

"Oh, why not? It's not good to skip meals like that, you know?" said Monika, pouting in that half-joking, half-stern manner that always made her seem even cuter in Kenta's eyes.

"Kinda got distracted with my buddies," Kenta replied, his laugh maintaining the smokescreen he was projecting. "I did eat a cupcake over at Daisuke's, though. They're handing them out to visitors who buy stuff from their class, I think."

Monika's eyes lit up. "Ooh, cupcakes? Really?"

"Yep, they're really good," said Kenta, feeling warmed by her reaction. "Do you wanna drop by and get one?"

"Well, we can, but don't you need to eat first? We can always go afterwards."

"Ah, I'm n-not . . ." Kenta balked momentarily as his stomach growled with hunger, as if in defiance against the lie that he almost uttered. "Well, is that gonna be okay with you?"

"Of course, silly!" replied Monika. "I'm going to wait for you, don't you worry about that. Do you want me to eat with you?"

"T-That's okay with me," said Kenta.

As the two of them wandered around the food bazaar, perusing which food to buy and eat, it was as if Koizumi Academy was another reality entirely. Kenta was still clashing against his unspoken, unwilling promise to Mrs. Steinbeck and his wish to stay with Monika not just for today but for all the other days to come. But now, walking through the people and being together as if they were simply on another date, the bleak truth seemed thousands of lightyears away. They were free to roam, free to do whatever they wanted, free to enjoy the hours of the festival away from the conflicts that plagued them outside the school. Kenta heard the whispers and felt the stares, no doubt coming from students who knew Monika as one of the most popular girls in the school and were wondering how she ended up with an upstart like him, but Monika paid them no heed.

Daisuke looked rather breathless for some reason when the two of them dropped by Class 3-D's booths. Some of his classmates perked up at the sight of Monika, exclaiming excited greetings as if she was a celebrity of sorts. Monika responded with warm hellos of her own.

Daisuke, on the other hand, zeroed in on Kenta first. "We don't give out second helpings, man," he joked as he approached the booth.

"I'm not asking for any, you dolt," Kenta quipped as he ate some takoyaki, spearing at them with a small plastic fork. "Monika wanted to stop by."

"Hello there, Daisuke!" Monika hailed with a smile as soon as she was done greeting his classmates. "I heard there were cupcakes here?"

"Yep! Good thing you dropped by while there are still some," said Daisuke in reply, grinning back. "They're running out faster than our DIY stuff over there, to be honest."

At that moment, Natsuki showed up as well, popping up from behind the booths. "Oh, h-hey there," she muttered, raising her hand in greeting as she spotted them.

"Hello, Natsuki," Monika greeted back cordially, her smile now tinged with a bit of sisterly concern; Kenta had forgotten that she also knew about Natsuki's home situation. Thankfully, Natsuki did not seem to notice anything.

"Anyway, the same deal I told Kenta still stands," Daisuke stated. "Pop six balloons, you get two cupcakes!"

"Oh, really?" said Monika, glancing at their balloon pop display. She paused for a moment, thinking. "Alright, count me in."

"Wait, you're gonna try?" asked Kenta, surprised.

"Why not? I like a bit of a challenge," said Monika eagerly. "If I win, I'll give the other cupcake to you. If I don't, well . . . we can always share one, hmm?"

Kenta coughed, almost choking on his takoyaki as an unbidden mental image of him and Monika eating a single cupcake romantically together popped up in his mind. "W-Well, that sounds nice," he stammered, swallowing both food and air to ease his throat.

With that, Monika winked at him before advancing to the balloon pop display with Daisuke's supervision, a determined gleam shining in her emerald eyes. As he watched her go, Kenta noticed Natsuki looking at him from the sidelines. He smiled rather sheepishly at her.

"Your face and your hair are almost the same color right about now," she said in an amused tone.

In the end, amid the cheers and surprised delight of Class 3-D's booth attendants, Monika managed to pop six for six. Kenta smiled as he stood by watching, feeling slightly relieved that she wouldn't be forced to share a single cupcake with him. Daisuke, who seemed to have noticed his relief, poked a bit more fun at him as he gave Monika her cupcakes.

"Kenta was hoping you'd miss that last one so you'd have to share," he said jokingly.

"I didn't say anything like that, you dolt!" Kenta shot back, while Natsuki let out a short laugh.

Monika looked at him, beaming as she handed him an orange cream cupcake. "Yeah, I was hoping for that myself," she said. Kenta felt the heat from his face escalate further. Though he sensed that she was simply playing along with the jest, the fact that Monika's cheeks turned slightly pink told him something more.

After the brief but lighthearted visit and exchange at 3-D's side of the festival, the two of them looked for a quieter spot to retreat to, a task that seemed impossible considering just how crowded the school was at this point. Not wanting to make it appear that he was being too quiet out of his worry, Kenta kept striking up some idle talk as he walked with Monika. The stares returned, coupled with a few instances wherein many girls and a few boys were starting to whisper to one another openly at the sight of them together. Nevertheless, nothing much changed in Monika's way of dealing with such experiences, though she did openly greet a few of her friends from other classes and introduced Kenta to them. As he listened to the titters and excited questions that came his way and Monika's as well, Kenta's appreciation for Monika only kept growing. The mere fact that she was so open in letting the world know who he was for her, the fact that she wasn't reluctant or keeping her distance lest the two of them look too much like an actual couple, it was all a testament to the resolute, carefree demeanor that he had always found attractive in her.

And yet, beneath all this bliss, Monika was still unaware of the true extent of her mother's opinions towards him and their relationship, and Kenta wondered just what else would change once Monika found out for herself exactly what it was that her mother had said to him in front of the _Cocoa Connection _on that particular evening.

Miraculously, a vacant stone bench close to the faculty area provided them with an island of solitude amidst the perennial hubbub of the festival and the students around them. Monika quickly ran towards it and sat down before any other students could take it from them.

"See? I told you we'd find a nice little spot soon enough," she told him with a wink as he sat down next to her.

"Yeah, I'll take it," said Kenta, feeling relieved as he stretched his legs for a bit. "A-Anyway, do you want some of this yakisoba?"

"Oh, no need, thank you. I'm still pretty full from what I ate earlier," said Monika lightly. "But I did save some room for dessert!"

She held up the strawberry cream cupcake she had won, sniffing it a little before taking a small bite. "Oh, wow," she muttered as she chewed, her eyes lighting up. "This is _really _delicious."

"Yep, Natsuki bakes a mean batch," said Kenta with a chuckle.

"Wait, _Natsuki _was the one who made this?" asked Monika, aghast. "I didn't know she could bake!"

"Yeah, it got me pretty good, too. It's what Daisuke convinced her to do for the festival."

"I see. . . That's really nice to hear." Monika took another bite of her cupcake, exhaling with delight as she savored its taste. "I wouldn't mind having one of these every day for dessert."

"I know, right?" Eyeing his own orange cream cupcake, Kenta bit into it and closed his eyes, relishing the mixture of zest and creamy goodness it gave him.

Suddenly, something soft and gentle brushed against the corner of his lips. He drew back and opened his eyes, and was startled to see Monika's fingers brushing against his face.

"You've got some cream over there," she muttered, tutting.

"Oh, t-thanks," Kenta stammered, laughing shakily as Monika's touch tickled his cheek slightly. It felt rather embarrassing that she had to clean up after him in such a manner, and with other people around as well, but as she had been doing for the past half-hour with him, Monika simply carried on and stuck with him as if they were the only two people in the world at the moment. With a smile, she withdrew her hand, her index finger now stained with a bit of orange cream. Kenta expected her to wipe it down somewhere, but his initial surprise returned with redoubled force as Monika licked the cream from her finger.

Kenta stopped chewing, his mind racing at a thousand miles an hour at the implications. It was a very intimate gesture, highly unexpected, the closest thing to an indirect kiss that he had ever seen or will ever experience—and it was only when Monika's eyes widened in shock as well that he realized she had done so without thinking. She looked back at him, her fingertip still in her mouth, the realization dawning on her in the same way color suffused her cheeks. Kenta swallowed his mouthful of cupcake with difficulty, knowing that his face had once again taken after the shade of his hair.

Slowly, wanting to break the ice and still coming up short due to her visible embarrassment, Monika began to laugh. There were very few moments when her formally cordial demeanor was pierced by something as full of levity as a schoolgirl's giggle, and as he began to laugh with her, Kenta knew that this moment was definitely one of them. Soon, the sound of their laughter rang out against the din of the festival, free and true. All ills were temporarily forgotten, whether they were the admonitions of an overbearing parent, the demands of one's duties or the snide musings of insecure and jealous observers. And in that brief but lighthearted exchange of youthful romance, amid the strong desire to be with each other in defiance against more somber realities, the world felt just as comforting and reassuring as the sweet and fluffy taste of an expertly baked cupcake during a time of festive liberty.

* * *

_A/N: Welp, still alive. Holy crap, what a doozy!_

_Major apologies for dropping off the radar yet again, this time for almost three months. The holiday months generally tend to be a busy time of the year, and then January just picked up with work and other stuff immediately afterwards, so there's just no rest for the wicked. To cap it all off, I needed to plan and write these last two chapters (and at such a critical junction in the story, too) as perfectly as I could with what little free time I can get, so you can hopefully see why it took so long. To give you an idea, what you just read is equal to FOUR normal chapters, or sixty pages in MS Word._

_Nevertheless, I'm glad that I managed to nail everything down eventually, and I hope that you enjoyed reading it all. I'm gonna say it this early: I have no idea if the next chapter will be delayed for a similar time, or if it'll turn up a lot sooner. What I __can__ promise, though, is that I won't stop planning and writing as I always do after an upload. As I always say, it's my goal to keep delivering with this fic, and I'll do everything I can to make sure I do just that. Again, to everyone who read this and has left reviews or messages of support, I cannot thank you enough for giving me the strength and determination to keep doing this. This is for you. You guys are all awesome._

_Anyway, that's that. See you in the next one. Take care of yourselves, guys, and have a good one. Cheers!_


	55. Chapter 55 - Seventy Thousand Yen

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE – SEVENTY THOUSAND YEN (SayoHiro)**

Long after the last decorative piece has been taken down and the last booth folded, the euphoria of the festival still endured. Many students were still talking in excited tones about everything that had transpired, from a classmate's shining moment to another's embarrassing display, and the sights and sounds that had piqued their senses all throughout. It was as if everyone was savoring the joys and the breaks from all the schoolwork before the next obstacle of the year—their second batch of exams—reared its ugly head right before the holidays. While Christmas and New Year were not celebrated in Japan in the same degree that they were across the world, students still looked forward to them as it gave them around two weeks' worth of vacations. After all, it was a typical notion for the youth to look forward to such prospects instead of first addressing the elephants in their rooms.

For Sayori, however, such lighthearted notions were lightyears away given the mountainous trouble she was about to face. The privacy of her room was starting to feel like the cold interior of a jail cell, where she languished as she debated fiercely whether she was making the right choice.

She trembled as she stared at her cellphone, her mother's number still on the screen. Her stomach felt heavy, as if weights were popping up every now and then in her gut and weighed her down further. Her hands felt cold, and it had taken quite a bit of effort for her to even dial her mother's number in the first place. Enduring such sensations the entire day, worrying about the inevitable on a hellishly sluggish pace had caused her to fluctuate between resignation and paranoia—a terrible sensation compared to the emptiness she had been feeling for the past few days—but at the end of it all she had decided to try and take the plunge. _It's what Akihiro would want, _she mused to herself, as if the thought would offer her some comfort as she tried to steady her thoughts, even as her hands shook and her head felt dizzy with dread. Contrary to the ostensible assurance of her words, she had not even consulted Akihiro about her plan—and indeed, she had been avoiding him out of concern that she would begin taking up too much of his time again. The only emotion that was possibly stronger than her trepidation at the moment was her continued frustration at her own self.

As soon as she had realized that the money was missing, Sayori had searched every place she knew, even going so far as to retrace her steps downtown to the ATM machine she had withdrawn the money from. _ATM, convenience store, the city hall, the park, the night market, home stretch. ATM, convenience store . . . _Sayori repeatedly recounted in her head the landmarks that she remembered passing that night, hoping that the cadence she was creating would miraculously give her the answer she sought.

And of course, that it would also drown out the voices.

_That was two weeks' worth of your allowance, plus the rent. Stupid girl._

_You got distracted again, I'm sure. When exactly aren't you distracted, Sayori?_

_You're useless. Careless. Hopeless._

Sayori bit back her frustration, her hands trembling as they itched to beat her own head. She had wanted to punish herself so badly for screwing up this big, to the point where corporeal pain felt better than the continued assault on her thoughts that her mistake had created. She was expecting disappointment and anger from her mother to come her way in full force, enough to drown her in another pool of misery not unlike the one she had been wallowing in some time ago. During a few fleeting moments when she would try bargaining with herself and the universe about what she could do, her mind had turned up a few dishonest tactics that tempted her for a while. Lying was one of the simplest steps to take; Sayori knew she could simply make up a story about how she had used up part of the money for a sudden school project or an emergency excursion, sparing her the grief of being admonished fully. She could even make up a story about how she had been pickpocketed on her way home, a theory that Sayori also considered the actual reason behind her loss of the money. But her conscience and a mental image of her parents working hard in Fukushima always made her balk on using such fabrications. And so, Sayori knew she had to deal with it, and to do it alone and without any form of duplicity on her part; it would not do to fish for pity or make any excuses. Her growing sense of worthlessness would never be a good excuse, and her conscience and the voices that judged her would never let her live it down.

Akihiro, of course, had tried his best to find a concrete solution for her dilemma; with the sum of money she had lost, however, that would not be as easy as treating her for lunch or dinner when she came up short on her allowance. Thus far, the only solution that Akihiro had come up with that was manageable enough was to sell some of his high-level game accounts online from the long list of games he played—_ Arclight_, _Dungeon Delvers_, _Huntsman's Dusk _and _Skies of Justice, _and many others that Sayori had never even heard of. Yesterday, he had explained to her how gamers from around Japan and even across the world would post on online forums to advertise their accounts, putting them up for sale for any prospective buyer who was looking for a particular class build, complete with high-grade armor and weapon sets and the right items in their inventories. As a casual gamer, Sayori was highly unfamiliar with such transactions, but Akihiro seemed optimistic as he posited how such accounts often sold for as high as eight thousand yen each. In the end, however, Sayori had decided against it, feeling guilty about the idea that Akihiro would be selling something that he worked hard for in order to bail her out again. Akihiro had tried changing her mind by stating how selling some of his game accounts would help him slack off less, something that Sayori had been advocating for him for a long time now, but Sayori remained adamant in her choice. And so, Akihiro went back to the drawing board, and Sayori doubled down on her efforts to find a better solution on her own before the problems began taking their toll on him as well.

And now, feeling a lump forming in her throat, Sayori dialed up her mother's number. Her chest began to throb as she heard the first ring. Words flitted past in her head, moving too fast for her to consider what they said and whether they could help her decide what she was going to say the moment her parents answered the call. Would she lie on the spot? Would she come clean?

The fourth and fifth rings passed. In Sayori's ears, the white noise seemed to echo ominously, as if doom was approaching. Her heart joined in the fray, hiking up its rhythm as it beat faster and faster in her chest.

Losing her nerve at the eighth ring, Sayori ended the call immediately and threw her phone on her bed, her breath starting to grow shakier. And yet, she knew it was all for naught; her mother would return her call with one of her own, or with a message asking her why she was calling in the first place. A hastily formulated story may do the trick, but Sayori found it even harder to think straight now as she paced around the room, rubbing her arms in an effort to ward off the chill on her body that had nothing to do with her room's temperature. She picked up Mr. Cow, sitting at the foot of her bed like a guardian, giving it a tight embrace and feeling slightly comforted at her memory of Akihiro scolding her jokingly for referring to the stuffed toy as a male every time.

_I wish you were here, Akihiro. I wish I could just invite you here and spend time with you without having to bother you with my problems. _Pouring all her longing into her bear hug on Mr. Cow, Sayori resisted the urge to call Akihiro with all her might. The trouble she had caused him during the festival was more than enough; having caused him to worry to the point where he had to pay her a sudden visit, she unwittingly prevented Akihiro from taking part in his class's scavenger race. The realization had come as another blow to her, solidifying both her resolve in never letting such a thing happen again and her increasing frustration towards herself. And above all that, there was also the dread brought by her prediction that Akihiro might be looking for ways to help her, causing him even more trouble than he deserved from her.

At that moment, her cellphone began beeping. Sayori recoiled in terror as her gaze rounded towards it, expecting to see her mother's call coming in. She soon saw, however, that it was merely a text message from Monika. With a gasp of both surprise and relief, Sayori quickly grabbed her cellphone and sat down on the bed, taking a look at the text.

"_hello there, Sayori! i hope you're doing well. sorry for texting out of nowhere. i've been meaning to talk to you for the past week or so, TBH, but things have been picking up at the club to the point where i just end up forgetting. anyway, if you have some time, just tell me, okay?_"

Sayori bit her lip, wondering what to say. For one thing, she wanted desperately to be able to talk to someone other than Akihiro, and on better days a close friend like Monika was easily the next best person for that; when she had approached her the day after the festival to ask about what had happened, Sayori felt comforted at her concern, though there was also the pain of remembering how much she had made Akihiro worry then and how she might have indirectly caused Monika to worry as well. After that, Monika had been unable to talk to her again, busy as she was with her debate club obligations as she was being pulled out of class to attend meetings and set up practices. With the prospect of being able to talk to her properly again, Sayori felt enthusiastic, though she was also worried about the idea that she might end up swamping Monika if she chose to vent about her problems.

After a couple of minutes, Sayori beat down her doubts and replied, "_hey moni, sorry i was just doing some stuff… wat's up? is everything ok? _:("

In lieu of a text message, Monika replied with a call of her own after a minute or so. Sayori scrambled to answer, having been caught off guard as she initially thought that it was her mother returning her previous attempt at calling.

"H-Hello? Moni?" she said, flustered.

"Hello there, Sayori!" Monika's voice sounded as cordial as ever as she spoke. "I hope I wasn't disturbing you or anything."

"No, no, it's fine! I was just waiting for your text," said Sayori, letting out a nervous laugh. "Is something up?"

"Are you free tonight? I was thinking of going back downtown to have a drink at the _Cocoa Connection_, and I thought I'd invite you. If you're game, we can talk for a bit as well there. What do you say?"

"Oh, that sounds nice and all, but . . . why aren't you going with Kenta? Or with your other friends?"

At that, she heard Monika let out a weary sigh from the other end of the call. The sound of it struck Sayori a bit, given that she rarely heard Monika express any sense of tiredness before. "Moni? Are you okay?" she asked.

"Mostly," said Monika with a short laugh. "I'm just thinking about . . . about a lot of stuff. And like I said, I've been meaning to talk to you one of these days. It's been pretty hectic, not gonna lie."

"Oh, I see. If you want, I can come with you, b-but there's just a slight problem. . ."

"Hmm? What is it? If you're busy, you don't have to come!"

"No, it's okay. I'm not doing anything else right now. It's just . . ." Sayori hesitated for a moment, wondering how best to say it.

"I'm a bit short on money right now. I mean, if you want me to eat and drink with you . . . well, I'm fine with just sitting back and talking, y-you know?"

As she spoke, Sayori felt shame and regret well up in her, wondering if she had done the right thing telling the truth. Though saying it to Monika was different from telling her mother about it, it still felt rather awkward, and the embarrassment of it all was doubled as she knew that she had no money right now because of her own blunder.

Oblivious to her plight, Monika said readily, "Don't worry. It'll be my treat!"

"N-No!" Pain tugged at Sayori's chest as she was reminded of Akihiro's generosity—often wasted on the likes of her, she felt. "You don't have to do that, Moni! I'll be fine!"

"Nonsense, Sayori. I don't want to drag you along with me on this just so you'll feel left out without anything to eat or drink. They serve a lot of good beverages there, and I don't want you missing out on anything you haven't tried yet!"

"But, Moni . . . w-wouldn't that be too much?"

"No, Sayori. It's a hundred percent okay with me." Monika's smile felt palpable in her voice from the other end of the call. "What are friends for?"

Sayori sighed helplessly, turning away from her phone for a moment. She knew there were only precious few seconds for her to decide before things started becoming awkward. Privately, as if it was an attempt at inserting some levity in the hopeless nature of her situation, she wondered if Akihiro's brand of generosity was starting to spread through the city like some sort of pandemic, and whether Monika was the first to succumb to it.

"A-Alright, fine. . ." she muttered at last. "Where do you wanna meet?"

* * *

Monika dominated an aura of simplicity and resplendence rolled into one as Sayori spotted her at the _Cocoa Connection_, her attire comprised of a long grey jacket over a white blouse, a pair of dark brown leggings and some mocha-colored Chelsea shoes to match, with a black leather handbag supplying the figurative cherry on top. Sayori, on the other hand, looked rather ordinary in a haphazard combination of a white shirt, blue jeans and her school sneakers, all topped by a pale pink jacket that had belonged to her mother. She felt rather self-conscious as she walked over to where Monika was sitting, reading through her cellphone with a contemplative look on her beautiful face. She looked up as she noticed Sayori approaching, and she beamed at her.

"Hello, Sayori!" she said, putting her phone down and standing up. "I'm really glad you could make it."

"It's better than staying at my apartment wondering what to do," said Sayori with a small laugh, though she knew the nature of things was far more worrisome than that. "I hope I didn't make you wait too long."

"No worries. You showed up around ten minutes after I did," said Monika. "Do you wanna order now, or should we talk for a bit first?"

"I'll just go with what you want." As she stood opposite Monika, Sayori wrapped her jacket tighter around her. "It feels even colder in here than it is outside," she added, shivering slightly.

"A hot cup of coffee will help you feel better," Monika remarked amiably. "Come on. Let's order something to drink before we start. That'll help us both warm up."

"Oh, s-sure thing!"

As she watched Monika order at the counter and anticipated her question as to what she would want to drink, Sayori felt even more ashamed of her own self. She had tried to mentally prepare herself for this particular scenario as she was walking towards downtown earlier, but her guilt arrived nonetheless and threatened to dampen her spirits further. _She didn't have to do this. If only I didn't lose my money in the first place. I really am hopeless._

Ten minutes later, the two of them were back at their table. Monika picked up the freshly brewed cup of espresso she had ordered and took a small sip, sighing with satisfaction as she savored the taste. "Finally. . . I needed that," she said with a giggle, placing the cup down. In spite of the heavy feeling in her, Sayori laughed as well, feeling slightly refreshed by the taste of the strawberry latte macchiato Monika had bought her.

"So, how are you?" asked Monika. "I know I've asked you before, but there's always a lot more to discuss in person."

"I'm . . . normal," said Sayori, feeling sheepish as she failed to come up with the right term to say. Though she was far from okay, she could not bring herself to admit outright that she was having problems. "Lots of stuff have been happening, but things are pretty much okay, I t-think."

Monika nodded thoughtfully, and as she gazed at her with her emerald-like eyes, Sayori could not help but wonder if she was guessing the parts that she was leaving out.

"That's really good to hear," said Monika. "I mean . . . well, after those problems you've had a few months back, I was kinda worried that you might not be doing okay at some points. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. Club activities have been keeping me occupied, but I got a bit of a breather tonight, and I remembered you all of a sudden."

Sayori attempted to smile back, though the problems waiting for her back at her apartment kept lurking like ominous shadows at the back of her mind. "You're thinking that I'm avoiding Akihiro again or something like that, aren't you?" she asked.

"That's one thing," replied Monika.

"Well, w-we're doing okay so far," said Sayori, her heart twitching a little at how conflicting the actual truth of it was. Though she had not been avoiding Akihiro again outright, she sensed that things would eventually go there. "He's just been busy with a lot of things, too."

"That's nice to hear. It was really sweet of him to be so concerned about you when you didn't show up early for the festival. Good thing that you were okay, too."

"Y-Yeah. . ." A moment of silence fell between them. Sayori mulled over her thoughts in the meantime, taking sips of strawberry latte macchiato in between. Just then, she remembered Monika's seemingly tired tone over her call earlier.

"How about you and Kenta?" she asked her. "Are you two doing okay?"

"Mostly," replied Monika, repeating her earlier response over the call. "We haven't been able to talk or meet up too much thanks to my club duties. The festival was the most recent time that we got together. We managed to eat together and talk for a bit. It was really nice."

"Aww, that's really sweet."

"Yeah." Monika let out a sigh, smiling rather sadly. The sight of it caught Sayori's attention further.

"Moni? What's wrong?"

Monika braced her cup of espresso with both hands. The anxious look on her face was something Sayori was not used to, given how unshakeable Monika always seemed in her eyes in spite of any minor inconveniences brought by school life that the two of them experienced.

"I just . . . I don't know," said Monika. "A lot of things have been going through my mind, and sometimes I just end up drifting back to them even when I should be taking a break. It's just starting to pile up. Not just at school, but at home as well."

"What is it? Did something happen?" asked Sayori concernedly.

"Not really. It's just my parents being . . ." Monika shrugged, as if she had no idea how to correctly phrase her reply. "I feel so alone at home nowadays. Mom and I . . . well, let's just say that we're not on the best of terms right now."

"Oh, I hope everything becomes fine soon," said Sayori. "Um, did you two f-fight or something?"

"You could say that. I really thought the last would be when she showed up at Kenta's house to pick me up, but . . . well, she caught me and Kenta on a date here."

"Wait, really?!" At that, a myriad of images flitted past in Sayori's mind as she imagined what had happened, with each scene reminiscent of the romance dramas she had watched online in the past. "What did she say?"

"To me, nothing much. I didn't want to have any more arguments, not with how strained we both were, but I really wanted to ask her what she said to Kenta. He was the one she talked to the most, right before we left. I didn't know what exactly she told him, but I can hazard a guess from how Kenta has been recently."

"Oh, no. . . How did Kenta react?"

Monika sighed again. "I can tell that it's bothering him a lot. When we met at the festival, he wasn't as energetic as he usually was. And then there were these guys who were picking on him and all. . . I helped him get away from them before any trouble could happen, and I tried cheering him up after that. He seemed fine after that, but . . . I'm just worried about how he's doing while we're not talking."

"But what if your mom catches you two again?" asked Sayori.

"I don't know," Monika replied. "I don't want to get Kenta into trouble, but . . . I can't help it. I'm busy with a lot of things and all, but that doesn't mean I don't miss him every single time, you know? That's why I want to spend as much of my free time with him as I can, but even that's becoming hard to do, with how tired I get after school and at home. We still text each other, of course, but even if he tells me that he's doing fine, I keep thinking that . . ."

Shaking her head, Monika emptied her cup of espresso and plopped back on her seat. "Honestly, I can't wait for nationals to be over. Maybe things will get back to normal then. All this pressure to do well, to lead everyone to victory . . . but I can't exactly complain, right? Not when a lot of people are depending on me."

"No, it's okay if you want to complain, Moni," said Sayori reassuringly. "It's always good to let out what you want to say, especially if you're starting to become stressed." And yet, even as she said these words, Sayori knew how hypocritical they were as she knew that she herself was holding back on venting to Monika and Akihiro and everyone else about how she was actually doing. The thought made her words die down in her throat, and she found herself unable to say anything else for a moment.

When she looked back at Monika, she saw that she was smiling. "I appreciate that, Sayori. Thank you," she told her. Sayori managed to smile back, though her guilt and shame kept eating away at her from the inside.

"You're right about all that. It's what Kenta's been telling me, too," Monika continued. "There are times when I should just learn to choose to step away and give myself some space to breathe. If I just keep burning myself out, I won't be able to do anything good. It's always like that, you know? I just want to keep on giving a piece of myself in the things I've been tasked to take on, to the point where I don't save anything for myself, and I just end up being worse for wear because of it. I need to keep reminding myself that there are always choices to be made—not just in spending time with Kenta, but in spending time with you and everyone else, to have fun in spite of the busy days, to unwind when things become too much. Because I owe that to myself, and no can take that from me."

"Yes, that's the spirit!" said Sayori encouragingly. "Keep doing that for yourself, Moni, and don't let anyone tell you that you can't. If you need to spend some time alone, if you need to have someone to talk to, if you need to take a break, don't feel bad about doing so."

Monika laughed a little. "You haven't been talking to Kenta, have you? Because you two tell me the same things sometimes," she said jokingly.

"Same with you a-and Akihiro, to be honest," Sayori shot back.

"Touché," said Monika, laughing. "Thank you for saying it, though. I just end up forgetting these bits of wisdom when life becomes too much, to be honest. With your help and Kenta's, I swear I'll remember it better. But don't forget to devote that kind of pep talk for yourself, too!" she reminded her.

"O-Of course," said Sayori, feeling embarrassed all over again for being unable to walk her own talk.

"If things are becoming too rough, you can talk to Akihiro or me or anyone else," Monika went on. "We can meet up and spend time together like this if you want. In fact, I think it's something we should be doing more often, don't you agree?

"If it's not too much trouble, yeah," replied Sayori. Her memories of that get-together at Monika's house still stood out brightly amidst her negative thoughts, and in spite of herself, she still longed for the next instance that they would gather together again and have fun—not just with Monika and Akihiro, but with Kenta as well, with quiet Yuri and feisty Natsuki, along with Daisuke and Naoki, too.

"I'm just sad that I didn't do this sooner, and now I'm too busy to do it more often," said Monika with a sigh. "I want to look forward to the end of the nationals so that I can spend more time with you and Kenta and everyone else outside of school again, but January still feels like a year away, to be honest."

"Don't worry," said Sayori. "Once you're no longer a busy bee, we'll be able to—"

At that moment, her cellphone began ringing from inside her jacket's pocket. Sayori jumped in her seat at the sound, scrambling to check who was calling, and her heart gave a sickening lurch of dread when she saw that it was her mother. Sayori quickly rejected the call and sent a quick text in case her mother called again.

"_doing something rn mom, i'll just txt u l8r, sorry!_"

As she placed her cellphone down on the table, she turned back to Monika and said with a nervous laugh, "I'm really sorry. I was trying to call Mom earlier, that's why she's calling back now."

"That's okay," said Monika. "I wouldn't mind if you picked it up, though."

"N-No, I'm just . . ." Sayori wrung her hands helplessly, feeling as if she was digging herself a deeper hole instead of buying herself more time to bail out. She looked once again at Monika, seeing glimpses of Akihiro in her brown hair and her green eyes, and she felt even more shamefaced.

"I-It's just a problem at my apartment, that's all. . ." she muttered, trying not to sound too apprehensive. However, such a thing would be impossible to pull off against someone as perceptive as Monika, she knew. True enough, Monika looked even more concerned now.

"Sayori, what is it?" she asked her.

"Don't worry about it, it's nothing too serious," Sayori lied hastily. "I was j-just . . ."

At that, Monika beseeched her with a more serious look. "Sayori, if it's causing you to be like this, I can tell that it's serious," she declared. "What is it?"

Sayori turned away helplessly, her mind beginning to fill with frustrated thoughts as she cursed again her ineptitude in keeping things to herself. Part of her wanted to bolt out of the _Cocoa Connection _all the way back to her apartment, where there would be more hurtful thoughts waiting to send her spiraling downwards into a pool of empty despondence, but her legs seemed to freeze out from under her as Monika kept her under her stern but well-meaning gaze.

Bowing her head, Sayori took in a deep, shaky breath. "O-Okay, I'll tell you what this is all about," she said almost tearfully. "But you have to promise that you won't tell Akihiro!"

Her expression softening somewhat, Monika nodded.

"Okay. I . . . I lost some money." Sayori stalled for a moment, feeling herself cringe as she listened to her own words. All around her, the patrons of the _Cocoa Connection_ merely carried on drinking, eating and chatting, but she felt as if every one of them was listening in secretly to her narrating her woes. "It w-was supposed to be my allowance and my payment for the rent. I don't know where or how I lost it. All I know is that w-when I got home after picking it up at an ATM, it wasn't with me anymore. I've looked everywhere, but I couldn't find it, so I think I dropped it s-somewhere. . ."

All the while, Monika simply looked at her with that concerned gleam in her eyes, waiting for her to finish. Sayori shrugged feebly, trying to smile or laugh or at least express in some weird way how helpless the entire situation really was; anything except crying in front of Monika. "Mom doesn't know yet. I wanted to c-call her earlier to try and tell her about it, but I chickened out because I'm sure she's gonna get mad at me either way. Well, it's n-not like I don't deserve it for being so careless and . . . a-and stupid. . ."

"No, Sayori, please don't say that," said Monika at last, looking at her like an older sister would towards a troubled sibling and making Sayori feel even more disgraced. "This kind of scenario is regrettable, but it can be addressed."

"H-How?" asked Sayori. "It's not like I can just find that kind of m-money somewhere around here. I didn't know if I should just tell Mom the truth or if I should just make up some story to hide it so that she and Dad can just send some again. Either way, if I don't end up p-paying the rent on time, the landlord at my place might start asking about it. He might even end up calling Mom, and she'd f-find out, and I'll be in big trouble."

Monika let out a sigh, her eyes still tinged with that same sisterly concern. Sayori knew that she was trying hard to think of the right words to say, and she was even ready at the prospect of being lectured for her irresponsibility. Even the scolding she would get from her parents would likely be better than the cold, cruel chastisement the voices in her mind would give her all over again once she got home later.

"How much did you lose?"

Not anticipating the question, Sayori felt struck somewhat. "W-What do you mean?" she asked.

"How much money did you lose?" Monika asked again. There was some measure of insistence in her voice, Sayori noticed, though it was not out of unkindness. She swallowed anxiously.

"S-Seventy thousand yen. . ." she stammered in reply. The figure hung in the air between them, glaring, almost abnormal, as if it was an anomaly that did not deserve to be uttered so openly.

In a business-like manner, Monika leaned forward over the table, placing her arms atop it like she was about to say something so confidential—which it was, as Sayori was about to find out.

"Okay. Does your landlord have, like, a bank account for which he receives the rent from the tenants at your place?" Monika inquired.

"I don't know. I never asked. W-Why?" Sayori asked in return.

"I'm going to pay your rent," Monika replied.

The words resounded like the mother of all bombs, rattling Sayori's core as her eyes widened in shock. "W-What?!" she exclaimed, prompting some people to glance at the two of them. Beating back her bewilderment, she lowered her tone, though she could not quite stop herself from trembling in both voice and body as she went on.

"What do you mean you'll p-pay?! You . . . I don't . . . I can't let that happen!"

"Sayori, it's okay," said Monika firmly.

"No, it's n-not!" Sayori shifted in her seat restlessly, as if what Monika was suggesting would bring about the end of the world. "Moni, y-you don't need to!"

"Sayori, I'm telling you, it's okay." And this time, Monika smiled again, and Sayori had to wonder how crazy she was to actually flash such an expression about something so risky. _She's lost it. She's definitely lost it from all the debates and school stuff,_ she told herself.

"I'm not saying or doing this to brag," Monika went on, "but I've saved up quite a bit of money because my parents always give me more than I really need. Maybe they want me to spend it on whatever I want, maybe they want me to save it for a rainy day or college, I don't know. Either way, if I'm free to use it, it's better if I do it to help you."

Sayori bit her lip, the pain of knowing that she was being offered such generosity becoming too much to bear. She knew that Monika's family was probably so rich that seventy thousand yen seemed like a minor, temporary speedbump for Monika's savings, but it was still too much to even ask, let alone accept it even if it was being given so freely. _I don't deserve this. I don't deserve any of it. I have to say no. _Sayori clung onto the notion of refusing, her efforts willed towards finding a solution all alone for problems of her making. But across that was the equal helplessness of knowing that she could not possibly find a solution that would address things in time before it all started escalating. On the table, her cellphone lay dormant, and while her mother had not replied yet to her last message, the wait for it was starting to feel like a countdown timer ticking towards the inevitable as Sayori was slowly being compelled to make a choice.

"Sayori, I don't want to put pressure on you, okay?" said Monika earnestly, cutting through her thoughts. "I just want to help you before this grows into a bigger problem. If you're worried about paying me back, don't. You don't have to, alright?"

"T-That makes it even worse!" said Sayori petulantly. "Moni, I can't let you waste your m-money on me like this!"

"It won't be a waste, Sayori," Monika proffered. "This is a legitimately serious matter worth addressing."

"But how can you be sure? W-What if I'm just making it up, right? What if I'm just lying so that I can get m-more money?"

A regretful look crossed Monika's face, as if she was feeling her pain. "Sayori, from the way you're acting right now, I know you're not making all this up. And I know you're not the kind of person who'd take advantage of people. If I'm making you uncomfortable, I'm really sorry. I just want to help you. You're my friend, after all."

Sayori bowed her head, embarrassment and dejection eating away at her resolve at a steady rate. Across the table, Monika waited patiently for her reply, and Sayori knew she had all the time in the world right now to make a choice—not that it made things easier, especially as she glanced at her cellphone, expecting to see her mother's reply coming in at any moment.

_Just accept it, _she told herself. _Just say yes, and you won't have to worry about the rent anymore. What's so difficult about that, you big dummy?_

_Maybe you should. There's nothing wrong . . . or is there?_

_No, don't. One answer for you would just end being another problem for Monika._

_Besides, why should someone else have to solve your problems for you? Can't you handle things on your own? When you talked to Akihiro about being more independent, was that just another joke?_

Sayori took a deep breath as she made her choice.

* * *

The city was well into the evening by the time the two of them left the _Cocoa Connection_. The air had grown so cold that Sayori felt her body and mind growing heavier, though she wondered if that was not caused primarily by what had just transpired between her and Monika. As she stood next to her, staring out at the city streets with a smile on her beautiful face, Monika did not seem as troubled as she was about giving up seventy thousand yen. Sayori had wanted to keep refusing, to think of a better excuse as to why she could not possibly accept Monika's offer, but the continued distress of finding even more excuses for her landlord and her parents had won her over in the end. She avoided Monika's gaze for a moment, feeling utterly shameful for even accepting her offer, and she privately wished she had the same confidence and resolve that her friend had when it came to be untroubled about such dilemmas.

Monika took a deep breath. "So refreshing, to be out and about like this," she said happily. "I really hope we have more of these kinds of meetups, Sayori."

"I know," said Sayori, her own breath misting in the cold air as she exhaled. "M-Maybe we can invite the others along next time, too."

"Yes. It'd be nice if we can have Yuri and Natsuki come along, to be honest," said Monika. "Just us four having a good girls' night out drinking coffee and eating somewhere nice, if the boys aren't available."

"As long as you don't spend too much money on me again, it'd be r-really nice," Sayori remarked rather sullenly.

"Hey, I've already told you, it's okay," said Monika. "I'm glad that I could help you with this, at least. This way, you won't have a lot to worry about anymore, and you can tell your mom that everything's taken care of."

"I know, I know. . ." Sayori attempted to smile, but she came up short as she felt embarrassed all over again. The burden within her merely kept growing, drowning out any further optimism or slivers of joy with the thought that, no matter what she chose to do, it all seemed fruitless and wrong in the end, regardless of whether she did it to help herself or spare her friends from any trouble from her. Still, like she had been thinking earlier, the last thing she wanted was to break down in front of her friend, especially after Monika was now feeling better about her own problems.

"Maybe I'll just walk around the night market before I go on home. How about you?" Monika asked her. "Are you going to be okay walking home alone?"

"Y-Yeah, I'll be fine," replied Sayori.

"Okay. Just remember what I said, alright?" said Monika kindly. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm just one text away. And don't forget about Akihiro, too!"

"Don't worry, I won't." This time, Sayori managed to find the drive to give her a small smile. "Thank you so much, Moni. For all this, and for your help a-and all. You're a real lifesaver."

Monika beamed back. "You're very much welcome, Sayori. And thank you as well for coming along and listening to this old lady's complaints," she said jokingly. "Take care of yourself, okay? I'll see you at school!"

And with that, the two of them parted ways, and Sayori began the long walk home. Her feet felt leaden beneath her, carrying her along at a sluggish pace that seemed deadened compared to the brisk and even lively steps of the people passing by around her. In some way, Sayori knew she should be comforted at the idea that the next phone call she would have with her mother would not be as catastrophic as it would have been around two hours ago. But as the thoughts and voices began whispering in her head, she knew that seventy thousand yen was now the least of her problems.

* * *

_A/N: And here we go! It was tricky to get this chapter to work, NGL, and the original draft was pretty different from what I ended up with. Had to change the beginning since I felt it was pretty out of place compared to the tone I wanted the chapter to have, and I had to set aside the parts I edited out in case I could use them for future chapters instead. Anyway, I hope this is a good read for you all, and that it'll be a setup of things to come. Because the festival's over, my friends, and in DDLC terms, we're entering the second act now. Buckle up!_

_Also, for those of you who don't know, I've uploaded a new fic here on FFN and on AO3 as well. If any of you are Danganronpa fans, feel free to check it out! It's called "Selfless Devotion" on FFN, "Selflessly Devoted to You" on AO3._

_That's that. See you in the next upload. Cheers!_


	56. Chapter 56 - Bright Spots

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX – BRIGHT SPOTS (NatSuke)**

Started with manga sharing, sealed with a kiss. For Daisuke, everything seemed quite normal apart from the blissful high he was still in, the kind that made one wonder if it was all real and not just some daydream from the many manga plots he had read. Every once in a while, he would touch the spot on his cheek that Natsuki kissed and try to reimagine the warmth it had given him, even if it had been three whole days since it happened.

That was not the only remnant of the encounter that had endured long after the festival. The next day, Natsuki had come to school without her face mask, the bruises on her face no longer as noticeable as before. And along with that came an air of sweet warmth—or as sweetly warm as Natsuki could be—that seemed to give her a renewed aura of confidence and openness. Having encountered the grumpy, reserved side of Natsuki for so long, Daisuke was immensely happy that the aftermath of a potentially troublesome episode at the festival had turned out a pleasant and invigorating result for her. She spoke more to their classmates, discussed her answers in class with more than a few terse explanations, and would sometimes lead the way in teasing Daisuke alongside his friends. And though she would fire one cheesy joke after another at his expense when they were in front of the others, Natsuki would always retreat into a softer, sweeter approach whenever the two of them were alone, cuddling up against him with her head resting on his shoulder as they read manga together.

Such a scenario was what the two of them were in right now: on their usual spot next to the open field, cuddled up against each other, with him reading one of the penultimate issues of _Parfait Girls_, and her reading _Seiko's Calling_ for the first time. Daisuke still remembered the day he had surprised Natsuki with the book as well as the staggering revelation that had followed later that day, and he often found himself marveling at how much things had changed since then.

"How is it so far?" he asked her after a while.

"It's kinda good," Natsuki replied rather reluctantly. After a brief pause, however, she added, "Alright, it's not just _kinda _good. Like, I really wanna see this turned into a movie ASAP. It's _really _good." She let out a sigh, embracing the book against her heart for a moment. "The plot might not be anything too new, but the romance, the angst, the art style, that nostalgia it gives you for places you've never even seen . . . ugh, I just love it."

"You're welcome," Daisuke told her amusedly.

"Yeah, yeah," said Natsuki, slapping him lightly with the book. "I still owe you one for giving me this in the first place."

"You don't have to, you know? That's what I keep telling you."

"No, I insist. Just you wait! I'll make up for this, I promise."

Knowing it was no use arguing about such a thing while the two of them were still reading, Daisuke merely smiled and let the matter be. Again, silence descended upon them as the two of them kept reading. Natsuki would occasionally let out more noises of fangirling admiration as she traipsed through Seiko's tale of bittersweet soul-searching, while Daisuke would let out a chuckle or two as he read how _Parfait Girls_' eponymous roster was going all out in their antics as the series came to a close for him.

After a while, Natsuki spoke up again. "Have you ever written a poem?"

Daisuke looked around at her. "Is that like for school or for personal leisure?" he asked in return.

"More on the second one."

"Oh. Well . . . I don't think I ever have."

"Not even to impress a girl?" asked Natsuki, looking petulant all of a sudden. "Because it's too mushy for a guy to do, is that it?"

"Hey, it's not like that!" Daisuke said hastily, avoiding the corner that Natsuki was jokingly trying to box him into. "I just don't know how to . . . find the right words, I guess?"

"Well, you're not wrong about that," said Natsuki with a silent chuckle. "Anyway, I've been thinking about it since the festival. Writing a poem, I mean."

"Oh, really? What made you think?"

Natsuki straightened up, placing down _Seiko's Calling _on her lap. "It's something that started when I began talking to Yuri," she said. "Writing poems, thinking of the themes to go with them . . . it didn't seem much to me at first, but now I'm pretty interested in it."

"So you wanna try writing a poem for yourself?" asked Daisuke.

"Pretty much." Natsuki pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. Daisuke began thinking with her, wondering if he could somehow envision Natsuki being a poet in her own right.

"I think it's a nice idea," he told her, grinning. "You might come up with some pretty swell pieces, with all the manga you read and their themes and all that."

"Maybe, but I'm not sure. The way Yuri did it . . . she actually made a haiku on the spot. Like, it's hard enough to think of a good theme, and she just does one like _that_. And the one she made . . . well, it was pretty nice, to be honest."

"Oh. Yeah, Yuri definitely seems like someone who can make stuff like that. But I'm sure that she practiced a lot in order to be able to do that. Anyone who wants to be good at something has to start from there, right?"

"Yeah, she said as much when we talked about it for a bit."

Daisuke nodded. "I see. Anyway, I wouldn't have guessed that when I first met her back in sophomore year, though. She barely spoke back then."

"Oh. Did you have a crush on her or something?" asked Natsuki jokingly.

"Of course not," said Daisuke with a laugh, anticipating Natsuki's verbal antics again. "I didn't even get to speak to her that much."

"Uh-huh, sure," said Natsuki with mock skepticism. "But really, it's nice to see that she's starting to talk to people some more. Remember, she was the one who talked to me first. It's like she likes talking to me or something."

"Well, can you blame her? You're a nice person to talk to, after all."

"When I'm not being cranky and pushing people away, at least." Natsuki sighed, looking deep into his eyes. "There are times when I still wonder why you didn't just avoid me after I snapped at you on our first day of school."

"Well, I could sense that there was something more to you than just being grumpy," said Daisuke affably. "That, and you being a manga fanatic, too."

"Or maybe you just have a thing for petite girls," Natsuki shot back. "Like all those gross guys out there."

Daisuke shook his head, feeling himself blush a little. "It sounds so wrong when you say it like that," he said with a laugh.

"Fine, fine." At that, Natsuki leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Daisuke drew back a little, feeling his temperature skyrocket in the same way it did back at the festival. Natsuki, on the other hand, merely stuck out her tongue at him, though her cheeks grew almost as pink as her hair nonetheless.

Daisuke glanced around for a moment. "Someone could've seen that, y-you know?" he asked nervously.

Natsuki pouted, leaning back against him and opening _Seiko's Calling _again. "Let them look," she muttered. "I'm just gonna keep reading. You gonna continue reading or what?"

"Alright, alright." Laughing, Daisuke reopened his copy of _Parfait Girls _and picked up where he left off. Between her façade of crabbiness and her attempts to pin him down with her verbal quips, this kind of sweetness was the last thing he expected from her. Still, he wasn't about to wish for it to stop, and given Natsuki's increasing openness about how she acted around him, he knew that she was thinking the same.

* * *

Within the privacy of her seat—or within as much privacy as a classroom seat could allow—Natsuki glossed over the words she had been writing for the past couple of hours in her notebook. With their professors writing down notes on the whiteboard up front for them to jot down, it had been relatively easy to hide the poem she had been attempting to create. Natsuki had been letting the idea stew in her mind for a long while, starting at the day of the festival when she had been talking to Yuri like she had told Daisuke. And along with the inspiration and hope she had gotten from her endeavors at the festival being a success, she had decided earlier after lunchtime to make the prospect a reality.

Still, inspiration was one thing, but putting together a cohesive poem that adhered to her personal standards was proving more complex than she had expected. At first, Natsuki had tried focusing on the things she loved—manga, anime, baking, anything pink and cute and fluffy in spite of her irritable façade when confronted about such things. But at the same time, she had wanted to make it slightly deeper than usual, to provide more of an impact and prove that such things, no matter how shallow they might seem for others, still held as much weight as anything else. And that was what she kept coming up short with, no matter how hard she tried to focus on the deeper themes of her favorite manga and anime or the nuances behind baking. Nothing just seemed to click, even if she tried inserting her favorite words and characters and such. The fact that Yuri could create a haiku on the spot by simply finding a theme in her surroundings had impressed her even more now—and made her feel slightly insecure about her own inexperience. Still, Natsuki was not about to let failure put her prospect to a grinding halt, and though she kept scratching out words discreetly on her notebook as she wrote, she was more than determined to turn in a poem for herself before the day's end.

Turning to a fresh page and leaving her previous attempts behind, Natsuki took a deep breath. She looked around for a moment, wondering if Daisuke was noticing what she was doing. Granted, she would be more than willing to share her work with him once she was done, but until then she had decided to work on this alone. Just like with her cupcakes, Natsuki was not the kind of person to turn in anything half-baked.

_Maybe I shouldn't be trying so hard, _she mused to herself in silence. _Yuri made it seem so easy because she didn't overthink and overdo it. I need to follow that._

Staring at the blank page before her, Natsuki focused simply on the happiness she had been feeling in the following days, or the bright spots, as she liked to call them in her mind. The sheer emotion she had been feeling then ought to provide her with more than enough motivation and material to write, knowing that was how Yuri had created her on-the-spot haiku. Natsuki went back over what made it all exhilarating for her—the success of her cupcakes, the praises she had garnered from her peers, Yuri's companionship, her most daring step yet when she kissed Daisuke for the first time. This is what poems were all about, she knew; the little things that brought joy, or at least invoked a measure of emotion and spirit in the one who wrote them just as much as in the ones who would be reading them.

"Alright, class, that'll do for today," their History professor said suddenly, forcing Natsuki to snap out of her reverie before she could begin writing. "Just don't forget to include those readings about postwar Japan right up to Tetsu Katayama's term as Prime Minister. Akiyama, Eguchi, if you two would step out in the corridor for a moment, let's discuss that final deadline for your redone essays. The rest of you, carry on."

At that, the classroom slowly came back to life. Students stowed away their History books and notebooks to prepare for their next and last class. Natsuki followed suit, though she didn't hide away her chosen notebook for her poem just yet. Next to her, Daisuke stretched his arms and turned to her as if to talk, but one of his friends came up and began talking to him. Looking away from him, Natsuki cast her gaze upon the blank page before her again.

_Maybe I'll do better at home, _she conceded. In her mind, the bright spots remained, and that made her feel even more enthusiastic.

* * *

The walk back home, while silent, was rife with more attempts towards a coherent idea. Like cupcake recipes or manga characters, Natsuki went through each of them intently, though she was careful not to get distracted lest she run into someone or something as she walked while deep in thought. Though it was hard to think of a proper theme and a way to start a poem while also concentrating on walking, Natsuki felt her confidence and eagerness rise. The inspiration was making her feel like everything was going well, like there was actually something good waiting for her at home, and it seemed to brighten even the dreary reality that permeated the Fujisawa household. Paired with the joy and angst of reading _Seiko's Calling_—safely stored away in her locker at school lest her father come across it at home—and her relationship with Daisuke, everything kept Natsuki hopeful and optimistic, more than she had ever felt in the past few years.

But even so, when the familiar concrete fence of her house finally came into view, Natsuki felt her joy and optimism fade palpably, sweeping aside all thoughts of poetry and inspiration for now. Once again, she did not know what to expect from her father nowadays, especially now that his shady companions were starting to frequent the house even more during the late afternoons and evenings. Natsuki often snuck up to her room before any of them could show up and see her, not wanting to run into any of them face to face, and thankfully no one among them ever ventured upstairs, only doing so to use the bathroom for not longer than a couple of minutes. Most of the time, they simply stayed in the living room, drinking and laughing rowdily. Sometimes they brought women along from the bars in the sleazier parts of the city, and they would argue for their attention when the bottles and cans started piling up. Natsuki still had no idea who the men were or why they were there, and obviously to ask her father about them was tantamount to getting hurt for being inquisitive. Still, she was somewhat thankful that their presence often left her father passed out on the sofa in his drunkenness, leaving her safe from his infamous rages, and she was more than happy to deal with the beer cans, liquor bottles, leftover food and dirty dishes they left behind in the meantime, but her foreboding at their continued presence in their residence kept tugging at her every day.

Next door, an older woman was throwing out the trash in the bin outside their gate. She looked up as Natsuki drew closer, and their eyes met briefly. Natsuki slowed down her steps, wondering if she should utter a polite greeting or at least express it with a smile, but the woman merely turned away and went back inside her house without a word. As she left, however, Natsuki could not help but wonder if she glimpsed some pity in her fleeting stare, and she speculated just how many of their neighbors knew exactly about what often transpired behind the walls of the Fujisawa residence.

Natsuki had just passed through the front gate when the sound of voices from inside the house made her stop dead in her tracks. They were boisterous, louder than even the students back at the festival who had snuck in some sake to drink in the comfort rooms near the open field, and while she had no idea of the context behind their conversation, she recognized them all the same.

_What the hell? Why are they here so early?_

Her exhalations misting faintly in the cold air, Natsuki could only stare at the front door for a few seconds, like a deer that had just sensed danger in the wilderness before it. Slowly, she began to take a few involuntary steps backwards, as if her feet were leading her away from that danger on their own.

And then, the front door opened.

Four men strode out, still laughing and calling out to someone inside the house. On the outside, no one could ever find them suspicious—they looked every bit the salarymen that formed part of the daily queue downtown, with their long-sleeved white shirts, loose neckties, black pants and matching coats. However, Natsuki's instincts about their potential unsavory nature never diminished, and they skyrocketed now as she stood aside hastily to let them pass. However, none of them seemed to notice her immediately, given that they were all still too busy exchanging unruly pleasantries. The mixed aroma of eau de toilette and beer emanated from them as they drew nearer, making Natsuki wish that she still had her face mask on. From inside the house, she glimpsed her father making his way towards the door as well to see everyone out; compared to the better-dressed men, he looked particularly shabby in his grey shirt, white shorts and black slippers.

"Don't forget, Fujisawa, you need to be at the apartment at ten tomorrow morning," the tallest one among them told her father. "It's not easy setting this kind of meeting up, and Yamamoto's not the kind of guy who'd wait long for that p—"

But at that moment, before he could continue, a sideways glance drew his attention towards Natsuki, who froze with fear and foreboding beneath his gaze. He stopped abruptly mid-sentence, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. Noticing the sudden interruption, the other men looked around, looking surprised when they spotted her as well. Natsuki had never felt so exposed, vulnerable and _small_ in her whole life.

"Who're you?" one of them asked, raising an eyebrow.

At that, her father ambled forward, half-shoving his companions aside. The glare he was giving off was one she knew all too well.

"You. In the house. Now."

Not wanting to stay any longer and risk creating a scene in front of these strangers, Natsuki bowed her head and walked as quickly as she could inside the house. Her eyes fixed on the floor and her feet, she felt their stares crawling all over her as she went, and she feared that her knees would give way before she could reach the stairs. Mercifully, she endured and managed to begin climbing up to her room, though not before she began hearing the men continue talking.

"Your daughter, eh?" she overheard one say.

"Yeah. Little runt is home early," her father grunted in reply.

"I see." The speaker then lowered his voice slightly, unaware that Natsuki could still hear every word he was saying. "Just don't forget about the arrangement, alright? Tomorrow morning, at ten."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just make sure you bring everything."

As she walked down the short hallway and into her room, the voices died down, though Natsuki did not dare to stay awhile to eavesdrop some more even if she wanted to. This was the first time she had heard her father speaking clearly to these men outside of their drunken conversations, and almost out of instinct, she found herself being even more unsettled and suspicious now that she had encountered the men up close. Granted, they seemed no different from the other working men that her father had been friends with back in the older, better days, but that did little to put her at ease.

She had just finished changing clothes when she heard footsteps approaching her room. She stood up straight in a flash just as her father opened the door. He had discarded the worn-out clothes he had been wearing earlier and was now in a more presentable outfit—a white shirt, black jeans and flats.

"I'm going out," he said, his tone making the hairs on the back of Natsuki's neck stand up. "Clean up the mess downstairs."

"Y-Yes, Dad," Natsuki muttered, her eyes fixated on the floor as she avoided her father's gaze.

"If you're gonna eat, there's some food in the fridge." And with that, her father departed, closing the door behind him rather roughly as if he was in a hurry.

"Some food" turned out to be a very small helping of yakitori, cold rice and soggy stir-fried vegetables, as Natsuki found out when she went downstairs to carry out her father's orders. She mused that they were leftovers from his drinking session with his friends earlier—that was always the case every time the men came over. Looking towards another gloomy, hungry night, Natsuki closed the fridge with a sigh and went to the living room to survey the damage that she had failed to see earlier.

The room still reeked of cigarette smoke, which combined with the darkness made the entire area very depressing to even be in. Natsuki walked in gingerly, as if she was trudging through the aftermath of a devastating war. As always, there were beer cans, liquor bottles, dirty dishes and scattered food wrappings everywhere. On the small end table next to the sofa, her father's ashtray was practically overflowing with cigarette butts, with some having fallen to the floor. Natsuki could tell by the number of cans, bottles and cigarettes just how festive her father's drinking sessions could go, though she noted that no women had been brought along judging by the absence of perfume in the air.

Natsuki shook her head, bending down as she began to clean up. _Do you see this, Mom? Do you see what he does, what he's like ever since you died? _The thoughts always came out of nowhere for her, making her remember her mother whenever she would be forced to clean after her father's messes or when he would unload his drunken anger on her. Natsuki knew that she would gain no answers—and such a notion hurt her badly during the first year after her mother's death—but she asked them nonetheless, as if daring to keep questioning her lot in life and wondering if there was actually an end to the misery she and her father were wallowing in. And somehow, in spite of all the bruises she had received and all the nights where she couldn't sleep properly due to hunger, Natsuki wanted to keep believing that there _was_ an end in sight. She held on to such a hope fiercely, brought on by the bright spots that people like Daisuke and Mrs. Matsuda and Yuri Hoshino provided, not wanting it to dissipate in the storms that she was weathering almost daily for years now. And she liked to imagine that her mother, from wherever she was now, helped her stay afloat by influencing the fates and introducing people like Daisuke into her life, filling the void that she had left behind after her passing.

Natsuki had just finished sorting out things in the living room when someone knocked on the front door. She frowned to herself. Her father would never knock, she knew. Washing her hands hastily at the kitchen sink and patting them dry, she hurried towards the door and leaned towards it, silently resentful at her lack of height for preventing her from looking into the door's peephole. But before she could do anything else, her blood ran cold as she remembered her father's companions from earlier. The second knock that came forced her to begin weighing her options in a flash. If it was indeed one of them, she could always keep silent and pretend that no one was home, though that was not a viable prospect considering she had turned on most of the lights downstairs in order to clean up.

The third knock derailed all of her thoughts completely. Losing her nerve, Natsuki called out, "W-Who is it?"

"Natsuki?" said a male voice from the other side. "Is that you?"

Snapping to attention as she recognized the voice, Natsuki felt her dread screech to a halt. Still, she decided to make sure. "Who is it?" she repeated.

"It's your uncle, Ryota," the reply came. Sagging with relief at the confirmation, Natsuki quickly opened the door.

Clad in a black overcoat that covered his salaryman's uniform, Ryota Ito looked rather grim as he stood in the doorway, but his serious presence was a sight less foreboding than that of the men from earlier, Natsuki attested. It was the first time that she had seen him in months; given that he worked as a salaryman in neighboring Chūbu most of the time, he was rarely at his home in Eishima, and thus his sudden arrival at the moment came as a total surprise. Though she knew that they were about the same age, Natsuki marveled at how her father would look ten years older by comparison, even with the lines that were starting to form beneath her uncle's pale blue eyes. His short hair, tall bearing and eyeglasses reminded her somewhat of Daisuke's friend Naoki.

"U-Uncle Ryota!" said Natsuki, bowing politely. Behind her uncle, his white car could be seen parked next to their front gate. "You're back in town?"

"Yes, I just arrived around three," her uncle replied, his smile briefly dispelling the seriousness on his face. "I'm sorry if I showed up out of nowhere or something. I dropped by your Aunt Shoko's for a while before coming down here. I wanted to talk to Ichiro. Is he home?"

"N-No. Dad went out for the evening," Natsuki replied, her thoughts racing all of a sudden as to what her uncle's business with her father was. "He left around an hour ago."

Uncle Ryota clicked his tongue. "Sent him a text and all, too," he muttered, shaking his head. "I wonder if he even saw it. . ."

Not knowing what else to ask or do at the moment, Natsuki said, "W-Would you like to come in, Uncle?"

Her uncle nodded. "Sure thing. It'd be nice to get out of this cold for a bit, but I can't stay long, I'm afraid. Maybe I'll just use your bathroom before I go."

"Oh, of course," said Natsuki, standing aside to let him pass.

At that, her uncle strode into the house, going up the stairs to where the bathroom was. Natsuki closed the front door and heaved a sigh of relief, thankful that she had managed to spray some air freshener right before her uncle's arrival, masking the odor of beer and cigarettes from earlier. She did not want to think about what her uncle might say if he noticed such things, nor did she know what she could tell him in reply if he inquired about them. Wanting to ensure that everything was in place, Natsuki double-checked the living room for any clutter she might have missed as her uncle took care of business upstairs.

Uncle Ryota came back downstairs after five minutes. "It seems like your father's not gonna be coming home just yet, eh?" he asked her, looking around the hallway as he reached the foot of the stairs.

"I don't think so, Uncle," Natsuki replied. "He doesn't usually tell me what time he comes back."

Her uncle nodded, sighing. "I just want to discuss a few things with him, about all the money he wants to borrow lately," he muttered. "Shoko told me all about it. Ichiro says that it's for your tuition and some of your school needs."

Natsuki fell silent for a moment. She knew that her father often lied about where the money would actually go, but for her uncle to actually show up at their house to talk about it, she wondered if her father had been found out. If her uncle had shown up a bit earlier, he would have caught him drinking with his new friends, and Natsuki could not imagine what would have happened then.

"I don't know if I should tell it to you, Natsuki," her uncle went on, looking uncomfortable for a moment, "but I'm sure Shoko already mentioned it in some way before. Getting enough money to sustain you and your father . . . it's getting tough. Especially with how things are going where I work now that a lot of my friends are gunning for a promotion, same as me."

"Y-Yes, Aunt Shoko mentioned something like that," said Natsuki.

"If I can get that promotion, this won't be a problem, but I don't know if I'll be that lucky." Uncle Ryota glanced at the nearby wall for a moment, as if trying to find answers there. "Your aunt wants me to hold on for a bit longer until Ichiro finds a job, but he never tells us anything, not even to inquire about job offers and openings somewhere around here or outside the city, if it comes to that. I'd try to get him a spot in our company if I could, but his credentials wouldn't cut it, I'm afraid."

Natsuki nodded, thinking consciously about her next words in case she accidentally let something slip about her father's escapades during his continued unemployment. "Dad's been trying," she told her uncle, knowing that a half-truth could suffice. "He doesn't tell me a lot as well, but he still goes out to inquire on his own. So far, he hasn't really been lucky. The last place that he inquired about didn't contact him back, if I remember correctly."

"If so, his options here in Eishima might be running out," Uncle Ryota mused. "Maybe moving out is his best option, if he's willing. I told your aunt the same thing a few times before. But then, you'd be left behind."

At the thought of finally being free of her father's draconian authority, Natsuki's heart leapt as it had back when Aunt Shoko had brought up such a prospect. Still, she tried not to look too obviously excited about it in front of her uncle. "If it comes to that, I think I'll b-be fine," she said.

"Are you sure about that?" asked Uncle Ryota, grinning amusedly. "Are you going to keep the house running by yourself?"

_That's what I've been doing most of the time for the past few years, _Natsuki thought with dejection. "M-Maybe I can move out and rent a place. It doesn't have to be nice, of course. A lot of my classmates are doing it because their parents are working outside the city and they have no one else with them."

"Yes, that does seem to be the norm nowadays," said her uncle. "But renting a place will be hard, though. The down payment, the monthly rent, maintenance fees . . . that's if you're lucky enough to find a place that's feasible and not already occupied."

Natsuki bit her lip. "Well, if that's not possible, maybe I can just stay here at home," she admitted. "I mean, I don't do a lot around here, and I don't watch T.V. or play video games or anything, plus I'll be the only one using water so the bills won't be too much of a problem. And if it comes to chores, I can keep the house clean and wash my own clothes and everything. Dad can just send you and Aunt Shoko the money I'll need for my allowance and the bills, and I can just come over to your house and get it."

"Just like that, eh?" her uncle asked.

"Y-Yes." In spite of how nervous and childlike she was feeling, Natsuki stood straight and looked her uncle in the eye. "I'll manage."

As she finished speaking, Uncle Ryota looked at her intently for a moment, making her wonder if he was actually seriously considering her idea. Of course, it required that her father would clean himself up, move out of Eishima, find a stable job somewhere and start his life anew. It was the longest of long shots considering how disgruntled and deep in his vices her father was, but Natsuki sensed that if her aunt and uncle lent their aid, the miracle could be pulled off.

After a few more quiet moments, her uncle laughed a little, shaking his head. He strode over to the nearby wall slowly and looked at the pictures hanging there, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat. Momentarily startled by his words, Natsuki followed him with her eyes and saw that he was observing a picture of her late mother.

He looked back at her. "You really are Kiyomi's daughter," he said with a touch of sadness. "A tad youthful, but independent and responsible, too. You even talk like her in some way."

Natsuki bowed her head, feeling quick tears welling up within her. Many times, she avoided glancing at the picture frames in the house if she could help it, not wanting to see her mother's smiling face. Still, she could never forget her, whether in her prayers or dreams, nor could she forget the last time she ever saw her alive. She swallowed to steady her breaths and her voice, but no words came to her.

Uncle Ryota walked over to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. We miss her, too. And I'm sure your dad does as well, very much," he told her.

Natsuki sighed, looking away for a moment. Apart from the last time that he had beaten her up again, she had not heard her father mention anything about her mother again. If he did grieve for her, Natsuki was sure that he did so where no one could see, his anguish manifesting only sparingly for others to see in the alcohol he drank and the bruises he left on her countenance.

"Yes, I'm sure he does," was all she could say.

Outside, the evening had already grown darker. Natsuki followed her uncle to his car, looking around in case her father showed up all of a sudden. As he opened the door of his car and made to go in, Uncle Ryota turned to face her once again.

"Just tell your dad about my visit when he comes back, okay?" he told her. "I'll send him another text as well."

"Yes, Uncle Ryota," said Natsuki.

"Also, if you two are free, you can come over this Sunday. Shoko said she'll be cooking something special to celebrate me coming home. Not counting the meal she's already cooking as we speak." At that, Uncle Ryota shook his head with amusement. "She always does this, you know?"

"Yes. Don't worry, m-maybe Dad and I can go this Sunday," replied Natsuki, smiling in spite of her despondence at the empty prospect; her father would not even acknowledge such an invitation, let alone give her permission to go.

"Good," said Uncle Ryota, oblivious to her ordeal. "It'd be like the old days, y'know? Anyway, I'd take you along to have dinner with us tonight, but Ichiro might look for you when he gets back."

Natsuki balled her hands into fists, desperately wanting to express her desire to come along. "Yeah, it'd be better if I just stayed here," she said instead, the heaviness in her heart growing so palpable that it hurt.

"Speaking of which, have you eaten already?" asked her uncle. "Or are you gonna be waiting for your dad before you eat?"

"N-Not really," replied Natsuki. "Dad usually eats outside when he goes out like this, and I . . . I just eat alone when that happens."

"I see. You do have food, yes?" said her uncle. "Ichiro said he still had a few grocery items left from his last trip."

Natsuki glanced back at the house, remembering the scraps that would serve as her dinner for tonight. Her father's lie frustrated her once again, especially as she looked straight into her uncle's eyes and saw a hardworking family man whose sense of family and generosity was being abused by his own brother-in-law. It felt like several lifetimes ago when she was a very small young girl, running around playfully as her parents and her aunt and uncle would set up the table for a nice Sunday lunch at the Ito residence.

"I haven't checked yet, but I'm sure there's s-something," she said tentatively, hoping that she had chosen her words correctly.

Uncle Ryota nodded, falling silent for a moment. Natsuki made to close the front gate already and watch him drive away when she noticed him reaching out his hand.

"Here. Add this to your allowance," he told her. Natsuki looked and saw that he was holding out two thousand yen, the bills placed in between his index and middle fingers.

"U-Uncle Ryota . . ." Natsuki stammered, at a loss for words all over again.

"Go on, take it," said her uncle genially. "Go buy some food if you need to. I'll just take it out of your dad's pocket money next month," he added jokingly.

Natsuki found herself daring to laugh at that, though her surprise lingered nonetheless. The gesture was more than anything she had ever received from her father in the past few years, and it made her wonder, not for the first time, how life would be if she had Uncle Ryota and Aunt Shoko with her instead. Gingerly, as if her father would pop up out of nowhere to lambast her for getting something extra for herself, she reached out and took the money.

"T-Thank you, Uncle Ryota," she said quietly, gratefully. Her uncle merely smiled in response, his tiredness dissipating momentarily once again. He closed the car door, started up the engine and drove off, honking once to say goodbye.

Back inside the house, Natsuki wiped away the tears of joy that had fallen after her uncle's departure. The money was still clutched tightly in her hand. She put it in the pocket of her pink skirt, making a mental note to store any that would be left of it once she had bought some proper food to eat for the evening. Knowing that she had very little time to waste before her father returned, Natsuki went back upstairs to fetch her jacket before stepping outside. As she made her way over to the staircase, however, she stopped as she noticed once again the picture that her uncle had been looking at earlier.

There was no timestamp to tell her when the photograph was taken, but Natsuki sensed that it was around the time when she was eight years old, judging by the length of her mother's hair and the clothes that she was wearing—a lovely pink blouse with a matching white skirt that she often wore during family outings. With her mother's pink hair and eyes as well as her petite frame, it was not hard to see where Natsuki had gotten her looks from—and some of her traits, as her uncle had stated earlier.

Gazing upon her mother's beautiful smile in the photograph, Natsuki could not help but grin as well, feeling the hope and optimism she had been channeling all day returning to her in spite of the tears that were starting to well up once more. She turned away and made her way to the front door, feeling a hundred percent sure that by the time she had come home and returned to her room, she'd have enough bright spots to help her write her first poem.

* * *

_A/N: Just when I thought I'd get enough time to write up chapters faster due to the quarantine brought by the coronavirus, s**t happens._

_Once again, I'm really sorry for the lengthy delay, guys. Getting this chapter up and running at the standard I wanted was pretty tough. Anxiety just gives me the worst instances of writer's block ever. But now I'm doing a lot better thankfully, and I wanted to finally upload this as soon as I could—after a crap-ton of edits and an entire section rewritten, that is. I hope the end result is up to par for you all._

_Anyway, in the face of the coronavirus crisis around us, please stay safe and take care of yourselves. I'll see you in the next chapter. Cheers!_


	57. Chapter 57 - To Hope

_A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters._

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN – TO HOPE (YuKi)**

"Yes, Mom, I won't be long," said Naoki in his cellphone. "I'll just take care of a few things with my classmates for our group reporting tomorrow, and then I'll drop by the hospital."

"Alright, just tell me when you're at the hospital already, okay?" his mother said through the phone call. "I'd drop by the store myself, but Tsukiko might lose her nerve if I'm not there."

"No problem, Mom. I'll be there."

"Thank you, son. Take care on your way there, okay?"

"Of course, Mom. You take care, too."

Naoki shook his head as he hung up the call, digesting the grim nature of things to come. Since Tsuru Kobayashi's confinement after her suicide attempt, his mother had been frequenting the hospital to keep Tsuru's sister company during her free time, visiting and helping her take care of things. After the initial week of the confinement, things seemed to stabilize into a quiet, almost hopeful air, and the arrival of the Kobayashi relatives added to the general feeling of hope. But soon, the days rolled by with little to no improvement, leaving the doctors and nurses to suggest the heartbreaking notion that perhaps Tsuru would never wake up from her coma. Naoki knew that his mother was there when the news was delivered to the Kobayashi family, and while she did not go into any details, he did not have to think too hard to imagine the kind of grief and shock that gripped the family. Since then, his mother visited even more frequently, offering what comfort and hope she could for Tsukiko and the rest of the Kobayashi family that she knew. And now, judging by her mother's nervousness, it would seem that the Kobayashi family was starting to come to terms with the inevitable, and Tsukiko had begged his mother to come over. Even Naoki was shaken as he guessed what was about to transpire.

He pocketed his cellphone with a sigh, stood up, and made his way back inside the classroom. As he sat down in his seat, Yuri looked at him anxiously from where she was sitting.

She leaned forward. "A-Are you okay, Naoki?" she asked quietly.

Naoki put up a small smile. "I'm fine, thanks. It's just . . . a call from Mom. She needs me to buy a few things for her before she goes to visit a friend at the hospital. I'm going to take care of it after school."

"Ah, I see. D-Do you need some company?" asked Yuri. "Maybe I can come along with you. I have to buy some medicine for Grandmother."

"Oh, is she okay?"

"Yes, it's just some maintenance medication. Sometimes, I buy some from the hospital's pharmaceutical center if there aren't any in the drugstores downtown."

"Ah, that's convenient, I suppose. Well, if it isn't much trouble for you, maybe you can come along. But it'd be a while before I can go, since after class I'll be planning with my groupmates for our presentation in Social Studies tomorrow."

"Oh, I'll just w-wait for you until then. We can go together after that."

"Will that be okay with you?"

"O-Of course." Yuri smiled. "Maybe I can just read outside while you're having your meeting."

"Sure thing. I just hope we don't take too long, to be honest," said Naoki.

"Don't worry, it won't be a bother f-for me." At that, Yuri stood up. "Anyway, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I just need to . . . y-you know . . ."

She gestured towards her forearm with the tiniest of waves. Instantly knowing what she meant, Naoki said, "Oh, of course, go right ahead."

As Yuri went off with a quiet word of thanks, Naoki watched her go, sighing inwardly as he visualized what she would be doing. With most of her cuts now healing, Yuri needed to focus only on the deeper ones she had made—the ones that worried him the most. At times, he even found himself stricken with a bit of anxiety in his room as he wondered how Yuri was doing, and whether she was close to another relapse. And yet, to try and talk to her about it, to even suggest what solutions Yuri could take, Naoki found it very difficult to mount an effective way of helping her. The online forums he had browsed had numerous comments offering words of comfort and encouragement to those who practiced self-harm, giving him an idea of what to say should Yuri be stricken by enough anxiety to start cutting again, but it was a whole other matter to say those words to the person firsthand compared to saying them through an online comment or text message. Staying quiet felt even worse at times, given that it made Naoki think that he was ignoring Yuri's problems, but he sensed that it was the best option to take without putting Yuri under a spotlight that she'd rather avoid.

When Yuri returned a few minutes later, she looked pale. Naoki knew that it was both pain she had just felt and inward shame she was enduring that was causing her to appear so. Readily, he leaned over towards her and shifted things to another area, well away from the obvious.

"I've been meaning to ask, how are you and Natsuki doing so far?"

Yuri gave him a small, embarrassed smile. "We haven't s-spoken yet after the festival, but I do look f-forward to chatting with her again. I don't see her quite often on the rooftop anymore, though. S-She isn't avoiding me, is she?"

"No, of course not," Naoki assured her. "I think she and Daisuke are just reading manga somewhere else when that happens."

"I see. . ." Yuri sighed. "I was always scared of saying too much in front of Natsuki. She doesn't seem like the type who appreciates someone who t-talks too much."

"On the contrary, Daisuke told me a few times how she finds you easy to talk to," said Naoki, smiling. "Natsuki might be another type of quiet, but I think she does like being around you."

"Do you r-really think so?" asked Yuri, her lavender eyes tinged with a glimmer of nervousness.

"Yes. Back at the festival, you mentioned how she seemed interested in poetry, right? Maybe you can use that to bond with her some more, get her out of her shell the same way Daisuke did with manga."

"M-Maybe. . . We'll see what happens. I just hope I don't o-overdo it. . ."

Naoki smiled. "I'm sure you'll do just fine the next time you two meet."

"I hope s-so," said Yuri, smiling timidly back.

* * *

The onset of grey clouds blotting out the sunset seemed to herald the arrival of rain, but thankfully no such thing happened as Yuri waited dutifully outside the grocery that Naoki had gone into for his mother's errand. Yuri had wanted to come in with him, but the store's crowded interior made her realize that waiting outside in the cold was a better option for her instead of standing around inside and getting in someone's way. In her head, she went over her train of thought consciously over and over again, intending to make sure that she would not let her anxiety rise up by fumbling or messing up in any way. _I'm just going with Naoki, buy some medicine, and maybe spend some time at _the Monocle _or someplace else afterwards,_ she mused._ It won't be that different from what we've done before. _People passed her by, occasionally brushing against her and oblivious to her conscious efforts to ward off her anxiety as she stood at the edge of the sidewalk where the grocery was. She rubbed her hands together, the chill from both the weather and her nervousness working together as they threatened to numb her fingers. Soon enough, it would grow cold to the point where people would be shifting into their winter clothing already, and that was when she remembered her grandmother.

True enough, the onset of winter was the best time in the world for Yuri; just like she had told Natsuki before, the cold weather offered the comfortable prospects of staying indoors while being warmed by a cup of hot tea with an open book to peruse, but not many people found the chilly atmosphere comfortable. Her grandmother, with her advanced age, was more prone to the cold than she was as her joints and weakened muscles ached. Yuri often made it a point to help her keep warm by making tea during the wintry afternoons and evenings, and also by preparing thick blankets for her to sleep in. Still, the toll that winter often took on her grandmother was something that always tugged at Yuri's anxiety annually, no matter how many blankets or pots of tea she prepared.

By the time Naoki finished buying what he needed, Yuri was rubbing her hands together subtly to ward off the cold. Still, it didn't take long for Naoki to notice it, his grey eyes glancing at her hands with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry if that took too long," he said. "The line was quite long at the cashier."

"It's no problem," said Yuri earnestly. "Do you need t-to go somewhere else?"

"I don't think so. The hospital should be our next stop now. Shall we go?"

"S-Sure."

Apart from the noises of downtown Eishima, the walk to the hospital was a relatively quiet one, accentuated by the dreariness of the overcast weather around them. Not that it mattered, Yuri knew, given that she was slowly starting to see how moments of silence did not necessarily herald disinterest from Naoki or her; after all, as introverts, such moments of silence were commonplace. If anything, it allowed her to observe the hustle and bustle of the city and visualize certain themes for her poetry as they walked. Doing so made her remember Natsuki as well, and again Yuri wondered privately when the two of them will be able to talk once more.

"If you finish buying up that medication for your grandma and I'm not done yet giving these to Mom, are you okay with staying in the hospital lobby?" Naoki asked her as they drew near the hospital.

"Yes, that would be fine," replied Yuri. "A-And in case I'm the one who takes too long, you can just wait for me there instead."

"Sure thing," said Naoki. "I'm not gonna stay long, don't worry. The last time I came over with Mom for a visit, it was rather difficult to sit through things."

Yuri looked at him worriedly. "Is this a-about your mother's friend?"

"Yes," said Naoki with a sigh. "She's . . . not doing good, from what Mom told me. She's been in a coma for weeks now, you see."

"Oh, dear. Is it from an illness? O-Or an accident?" Yuri inquired.

A heavy form of sadness crossed Naoki's bespectacled gaze. "Suicide attempt," he said quietly.

Yuri felt her heart stop at that. Many times before, in both literature and the informative books she had read, she had stumbled across depression as both a theme and a topic—and of course, the suicides it brought. She remembered Naoki's words back at the festival, about troubled alcoholic Curt Morgan from _Dreams of Dystopium_, young Natasha Johnson from _Laughing at the Shadows_, even raven-haired Libitina from _The Portrait of Markov. _Their stories all touched upon the subject, with the writing giving readers a glimpse of just how heavy certain burdens can be, especially ones that involved the darkness within a person. Their experiences, immortalized in literature in spite of their status as fictional beings, were just as real as those that actual people in real life go through. But very rarely did Yuri ever get to hear about an actual suicide, or at least an attempt, from people that she or her friends knew.

The silence that had followed their brief exchange prevailed all the way to the hospital. As if separated from the rest of the city with a veil of somberness, it was quieter within the hospital grounds compared to the streets around it. Private vehicles and an occasional taxi or two passed by, dropping off and picking up passengers as they drove past parked ambulances. Though there were many people around, no one seemed to have the thought of speaking out loud. Sobered by Naoki's revelation, Yuri glanced around as the two of them walked to the entrance, looking at the ambulances and wondering what other stories of pain and even loss they held. In most of the times she had visited the hospital to buy medicine for her grandmother, she had never bothered much to do so, distracted as she was with her recollections of her past readings and, during bleaker days, the thought of going home to her knives.

At the entrance, Naoki turned to her. "You go on ahead and buy what you need for your grandma," he told her. "I'll just call Mom and tell her I'm here."

"Oh, s-sure thing," said Yuri in return, nodding modestly.

The pharmaceutical center seemed even colder and more lugubrious as Yuri entered. Sitting at the hospital's left side, it was a small facility with an even smaller lobby where hospital goers would wait on the medical supplies they bought. Thankfully, unlike the grocery store earlier, there were no people inside other than the two hospital clerks at the counters. Rummaging in her school bag, Yuri took out the small piece of paper that was her grandmother's prescription—tucked in between the pages of one of her notebooks—and handed it to one of the clerks. Obviously knowing protocol, the woman nodded and retreated into the back to get the prescribed medicine. As she went, Yuri eyed the boxes and bottles of medication lining the center's shelves behind the counters. Semi-random thoughts floated in her mind as she looked at them, each bleaker than the last as they spoke of addictions that are too difficult to curb and illnesses that are too complex to be cured. She drew in a deep, silent breath as she caressed her left forearm, feeling exposed all of a sudden. When the other clerk left and disappeared in the back as well, Yuri could not help but heave a sigh of relief at being left alone.

The clerk returned a short while later, bringing with her three blister packs of differently colored pills which she began depositing in a small paper bag. Standing ready, Yuri took out her grandmother's money from her wallet, leafing through the bills with some difficulty as her hands trembled a little.

"You're looking a little pale there, miss," said the woman suddenly. Yuri looked at her, surprised.

"P-Pale?" she muttered.

"Yes. Are you feeling okay?" the clerk asked in an earnest tone as she stapled the paper bag shut. "Feeling sick?"

"Ah, n-not really," said Yuri, her anxiety creeping in slowly as the prospect of a conversation loomed. "Just tired, that's all. From s-school and . . . and other things. . ." she added rather awkwardly, placing her payment on the counter.

The woman nodded, her gaze rather sympathetic. "Yes, winter and stress just don't mix sometimes," she said, handing Yuri the paper bag and taking the payment from the counter. "With all this cold and whatnot, people are more likely to get sick. My daughter's feeling a little green around the gills, too. Exams and all. You're about the same age, I reckon. But she's not from Koizumi like you."

"I see. . ." Yuri fidgeted a little, wondering what else to say. But the clerk didn't seem to notice or mind as she punched in her purchase and handed her a receipt and her grandmother's prescription.

"T-Thank you," Yuri muttered, lowering her gaze as she deposited everything in her school bag.

"Take care," said the woman, giving her a small, motherly smile.

Feeling her face growing colder from her nervousness, Yuri gave the clerk a polite but awkward nod and left hastily. As she walked towards the hospital entrance, however, she felt embarrassed at her conduct. _She seemed nice. __I should've said something more_, she thought, shamefaced.

When she opened the hospital entrance's glass doors and glanced around, Naoki was nowhere to be seen. Yuri entered nervously. As she did, the clerk sitting at the reception desk adjacent to the entrance stood up. "Yes, ma'am? In for a visit?" she asked.

"Ah, no. I'm just w-waiting on a friend of mine," said Yuri in reply. "He told me to wait for him in the lobby."

The clerk smiled. "In that case, the lobby's straight that way to the right."

"Thank you," said Yuri, grateful that she remembered her manners this time.

Right as she entered the lobby, however, where there were other hospital visitors sitting atop rows of stainless steel chairs, she saw Naoki conversing with a woman who could only be his mother, obviously because she was now carrying the grocery bags Naoki had earlier. She had the same hair color and grey eyes as he did, and her black and white office-like attire reminded Yuri of some of their female teachers at school, giving her an air of stern formality that immediately intimidated her. She stopped in her tracks, wondering if she should approach the two of them or if she should wait for Naoki outside instead, but her thoughts skidded to a grinding halt as she spotted Naoki's mother glancing at her, raising her eyebrows in mild surprise. She said something to Naoki, who looked around and saw her as well.

"Oh, there you are, Yuri!" he said, smiling.

Faced with no other choice, Yuri walked over to the two of them as if she was walking to her doom. Mrs. Nakajima, on the other hand, smiled as she drew closer to them.

"You must be Yuri Hoshino," she said genially, temporarily dispelling Yuri's notion of her being stern. "I've only ever heard about you from Naoki here. It's nice to meet you in person at last."

"S-Same here, ma'am," Yuri stammered, cursing herself around two seconds later at how informal her reply seemed. To make up for it, she shook hands with Mrs. Nakajima politely.

"I didn't r-realize you two were still talking," she told them. "I hope I didn't d-disturb you or anything."

"Oh, not at all," said Mrs. Nakajima. "I met Naoki down here instead since it'd save him the hassle of going upstairs."

"Did you get what you needed, Yuri?" Naoki asked her.

"Y-Yes, I did," replied Yuri.

Mrs. Nakajima smiled rather knowingly. "Are you two going somewhere? A date, perhaps?"

Naoki turned faintly pink, looking over at Yuri. "W-Well . . . You can call it that, I guess," he said with a nervous laugh.

Yuri flashed a mortified smile at him as well at the answer, while Mrs. Nakajima laughed along. "In that case, I won't keep you two here for too long," she said lightly. She turned towards Yuri again and added, "You know, it's good to see him going out some more now. I'm glad you've convinced him to start dating."

"You're making it sound like I'm an old bachelor or something, Mom," Naoki muttered sheepishly. The way he scratched his head nervously and shuffled his feet gave him a whole different and cuter air from the gentlemanly demeanor he often exuded, making Yuri's heart flutter.

"That's because you're always in the house reading and studying," his mother tutted in response. "I've always told you, it's okay to go out and have some fun every once in a while, and it's good to know you're actually doing it."

"I know, Mom," Naoki sighed, though he couldn't stop himself from smiling as he crossed gazes with Yuri again.

His mother laughed again. "Well, don't let me keep you two from going where you need to go. I need to be back upstairs as well. Tsukiko might be wondering where I went if I'm out for too long."

"Yeah, maybe we'll just grab a bite to eat before we go home," said Naoki, looking relieved that his mother's banter was cut short.

"Alright, just take care," Mrs. Nakajima told him as she went forward to embrace him with her free arm. She looked over at Yuri and smiled again. "I hope to see you again one of these days, Yuri. Preferably somewhere other than a hospital, of course."

"I hope so t-too, ma'am," Yuri responded, smiling back.

At that, Mrs. Nakajima left, hurrying back upstairs along with the groceries Naoki had bought. Yuri watched her go for a moment, crashing back down to earth as she remembered the true, grim nature of her visit here to her comatose friend. She looked over at Naoki, who seemed to be thinking of the same thing and had deflated emotionally as well.

"Still up for that cup of tea before we go home?" he asked.

"Yes," said Yuri silently.

* * *

To their disappointment, _The Monocle _was full of people when the two of them arrived around ten minutes after their hospital visit. Both students and office workers were there, enjoying the onset of the evening over hot cups of coffee or tea, and platefuls of confections. Given that the autumn chill continued to drive people indoors, it came as no big surprise. And so, as evening approached, Naoki surveyed the streets quickly until he found a suitable place to fall back to: a relatively spacious but casual-looking coffee shop named _Five Beans and a Bun._ Only half of the seats were occupied, given that the venue's ordinary look—simple wallpaper, wooden furniture and minimalist decorations—did not seem to draw in too much visitors, especially when compared with the posh sophistication of other similar venues or the unique atmosphere of themed cafés like _The Monocle. _Still, it was more than enough for Naoki, since its appearance and lack of crowds would help make Yuri feel less exposed, he knew.

"I hope Mom didn't make things too awkward earlier," he told Yuri with an apologetic smile as he stirred the cup of hot cocoa he ordered. "She always likes to have a little fun when she sees me doing, you know . . . extroverted stuff," he added, laughing a little.

"It's fine," said Yuri with a smile, blowing at the cup of red herbal tea she had chosen for herself. "I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable by p-popping up out of nowhere like that."

"It's a hundred percent okay, Yuri. Don't worry about it. I was actually thinking about when you and Mom would meet, so I'm glad it happened today."

"Yes, it was nice meeting her at last. She . . . She seemed to be holding up well, w-with what happened to her friend and all. . ."

Naoki let out a sigh, his smile fading. "Yes, but I just know she's feeling pretty worried about it, too. You see, about her friend, her name is Tsuru Kobayashi. She's an old colleague of hers. The rest of us at home knew her pretty well too, since she visited often to talk to Mom about a lot of things. She . . ."

At that moment, his cellphone beeped in his pocket. he took it out and saw a message from his mother. "_they're all here, just talking inside the room. went out to give them some privacy. hoping it goes well, whatever happens._"

Naoki felt his heart twitch with both dread and sorrow as he stared at the text message for a bit longer. He put his phone back in his pocket and faced Yuri again, wondering how best to share more about Tsuru Kobayashi and her current condition—or if he should even be sharing anything about it to begin with now that the hour seemed to have come at the hospital. It was a private and sensitive issue, to be sure, but given how Tsuru was a family friend and how her plight was something that always stuck with him whenever he remembered it, it felt like something he should mull over with someone as close to him as Yuri was. His mother, who was now updating him about what was happening, no doubt looked for that same comfort that he was seeking in being able to talk to someone about what was happening.

Before he could continue, Yuri asked in a hushed tone, "W-When did it happen?"

Naoki drew in a deep breath, regaining his mental bearings. "The week right after our exams," he replied after a bit of recall. "She . . . She was found unresponsive by her sister Tsukiko at her apartment. Mom found out about it a couple of days later from her. We went to visit her once, and . . ."

Remembering the image of Tsuru with those tubes on her body possibly being the only things still keeping her alive, words failed him for a moment. Yuri observed him keenly, her amethyst gaze tinged with worry. He took a sip of hot cocoa, relishing the warmth and sweetness it gave him.

"Her family arrived the same week," he managed to continue. "They've been holding out on the hope that she'll wake up eventually, but that's starting to fade. Mom has been there mostly for moral support, since she knew both Tsuru and Tsukiko."

"I see. . ." Yuri drank some tea as well, the worry in her eyes lingering. "I truly hope she recovers eventually."

Naoki nodded, though the grim truth of what was about to go down at the hospital clung to him nonetheless. "Yes, I really hope she does," was all he could echo as he took another sip of cocoa. As he remembered in his mind that sad, sad day, he also remembered what else had transpired on his end then. As Yuri looked away for a moment, he gazed upon her left forearm, remembering the first time he had seen those red stains on her sleeve.

"That day when we visited her," he said, "that was also the day when . . . when . . ."

Yuri looked back at him, noticing his reluctance. "When . . . ?"

Naoki opened his mouth to continue, but this time the words simply would not come out. With Yuri staring at him from across the table, still recovering from her relapse weeks ago, he wondered if it was a good idea to mention how his instinct back then had driven him to guess—correctly, as he later found out—that Yuri was involved in self-harm with her knife collection. The fear and dread of another relapse always lurked in the shadows, and the last thing Naoki wanted was to cause Yuri enough stress or anxiety to send her on another downward spiral.

Yuri looked down, her face resigned all of a sudden. "I-It's about me, isn't it?"

Startled, Naoki felt a jolt course through his body. "W-What made you think so?" he asked tentatively.

"That was around the same time when I . . . w-when I did it again," Yuri replied. She smiled a little, though it did nothing to offset the other emotions evident on her features. "You must have g-guessed already by then that something was w-wrong with me, right?"

Naoki hesitated again. "I . . ."

Yuri leaned towards him over the table. "Naoki, it's okay. Y-You already know, right? It's fine. I just w-want to find out if . . . if something crossed y-your mind already back then."

As she stared straight into his eyes, Naoki saw a twinge of determination in Yuri's gaze now, as if she was determined to hear the truth from him regardless of how it might affect her. In his mind, he began rifling through the myriad of ways he could deliver his reply without saying too much or too little, drawing some reassurance from the fact that, like Yuri had said, there was little to hide now that Naoki knew a good deal about the kind of things she did.

He heaved a sigh, leaning towards her as well. "To be honest . . . yes, I did hazard a guess then," he muttered.

Yuri looked away again for a moment, digesting his words in silence. Feeling compelled to keep going now that he had chosen to answer, Naoki added, "It was a guess that I pieced together from . . . from the things I noticed about you, especially during that week. The stress was a given, since it was exam week and we were all on edge in some way, but . . . it just crossed my mind, you know? After what happened to Tsuru, and what Mom and I talked about in the car, it just sort of clicked."

"I see." Yuri let out a sigh of her own, her gaze returning upon him. "W-What did you do afterwards?"

"I began to read online about it. Articles and stories about self-harm and depression, about how you cope with them, the lot. That way, if I was . . . if I was right and all, at least I'd have an idea on what to do or say. I didn't know too much about it, and I wanted to see more for myself instead of just going by my guesses. But I had my doubts, too. Like maybe I was just overthinking, that the things I saw were just simple coincidences, and that I was seeing something that wasn't really there. And to make all those assumptions and try to figure out something without even talking to you first, or approach you with my thoughts and turning out wrong in the end, I didn't want to risk it. The worry is what got to me, though. I saw how you were having a lot of difficulty throughout the week, and we weren't able to talk much as a result. I just wanted things to start being better again, especially for you. That's why I was happy that I managed to talk to you again eventually. But those guesses that I had, they stayed in my mind all the while, and though I didn't say or do anything about them, I kept brushing up on them.

"I think the clincher was when I saw those red stains on your sleeve," he went on, "when I visited you that one time out of nowhere. It was also at that moment when I didn't want to believe it, because it just felt terrible to make that final assumption on your behalf. But naturally, there was no other way for me to know other than asking you straightaway, and I knew that wasn't a good option. Even now, with me sharing all this with you right now, it still feels wrong. Like I'm forcing you to listen to how I had been figuring things out. It's . . ."

At that, however, Naoki felt like he had said enough. He drank some more cocoa and looked away for a moment, sighing. Across him, Yuri seemed like a statue, listening intently all the while. Naoki wanted to look into her face, to repeat what he had always been telling her about being there to help and listen and all, to give her hope about fighting her relapses and combating her anxiety in healthier ways, but with his confession it felt as if he had kept something from her against her will, and it made him second-guess anything else he wanted to say.

Silently, Yuri sipped some of her tea and set her cup down. When she still did not say anything about what he had just explained, Naoki dared to look at her again. Her face still bore that same resigned look, a mixture of pain and shame and embarrassment all at the same time, as if she had just been told what a dreadful person she was. Or at least, that was what Naoki sensed she would think.

"I had a feeling that you a-already knew then," said Yuri. "When I showed you my knife collection, I was wondering if you'd catch up somehow. A-And when you saw those bloodstains on my sleeve, I don't think I helped my case by panicking." She laughed a little, the sound of it momentarily belying the heaviness of their discussion, but the way her hand dug into the table's covers gave away her inner turmoil. "But the way you reacted, when you chose to look for a way to help me by reading about anxiety and self-harm . . . it's something I never expected, from you or anyone else. It makes me happy that y-you would take the initiative to help me instead of outright shunning me, but it also makes me feel embarrassed at m-myself. I know that what I'm doing is wrong a-and horrible and all, but I never dared to look up on what I could do to fight it, in the way you did. I just relied on reading and writing, and on other things like drinking tea and doing chores at home and engaging in aromatherapy. I was terrified of just sitting down and confronting myself about it directly, b-because I didn't feel like I deserved it, y-you know? As someone who's so broken and dirty, I couldn't p-possibly fix myself.

"When I'd heard about your mother's friend, about her suicide attempt and all . . . it made me think of how far I might go, or if I would end up doing something like . . . like t-that. I'm not saying that I would end up trying to . . . y-you know. But I'm just thinking that if I continue to be like this, to have relapses when I can't keep m-myself in check, I might end up hating myself to the point where I just w-want it to end. And I'm t-terrified of that."

Yuri turned away again, seemingly on the verge of tears. "I want to fix myself, N-Naoki," she said, her voice barely audible but still shaking with emotion. "But can I, still? After all this time, all I've done, do I still even d-deserve it?"

Steeling his resolve, Naoki reached out and grasped her left hand, which now lay limp on the table. Yuri looked at him helplessly. Against his touch, her fingers were surprisingly cold.

"You do deserve it, Yuri," he told her. "And so does everyone else who goes through something like this."

Yuri did not say anything as she bit her lip, her hand trembling against his. With her free hand, she reached for her left forearm, caressing the spot where her scars were. She breathed raggedly for a moment, as if resisting the urge to cry. Naoki felt for her, wishing that he could just say or do something that could instantly make her problems go away, but all he could do right now was to caress her hand comfortingly.

After a few more seconds of this, he made to let go to give her some space, but all of a sudden, Yuri clasped his hand tightly before he could draw away. Caught by surprise, Naoki stopped in his tracks, and as he looked upon her face he saw a whole new emotion dawning on her conflicted features—hope. Her lavender eyes gleamed as she held back her tears, and the corners of her mouth crinkled with a fleeting attempt at another smile. From the way she was now clutching his hand, Naoki knew that she was clinging onto him in the same way figuratively, emotionally. It was a responsibility that had crossed his mind before only sparingly, and never had he felt it so palpably as he did now. Still, he smiled back at Yuri, free of any regret, looking towards the future with that same spark of hope that she desperately wanted to ignite.

By the time they left the café, the city was already easing into the evening with its array of dazzling lights and mishmash of noises. Next to him, Yuri was rubbing her hands again to keep warm. "A-Are you going home now?" she asked.

"Yeah," Naoki replied, tightening his blazer around himself to ward off the cold. "Mom might be staying a bit longer at the hospital, so I don't know what time she'll be going home. Maybe I'll send her a text before I go."

"I see. I hope she's doing okay at the hospital," said Yuri. "Anyway, I think I'll go on ahead. Grandmother might be wondering where I went off to if I stay out longer. . ."

"Oh, sure thing," said Naoki. "Take care on your way home, okay?"

"Y-You, too."

But even as she said those words, Yuri did not immediately leave. She merely stood in front of him, looking worried all over again. Naoki tilted his head curiously, wondering if she was about to say something else. But before he could speak, she walked over to him and embraced him snugly, her head nuzzling against him, her face partly buried on his shoulder. Naoki stood dumbfounded for a few moments, caught off guard as he was by the sudden embrace and feeling conscious at the people who were passing by. Given that their physical interactions consisted mostly of hand-holding, their first embrace at her room on the fateful day of her accidental revelation notwithstanding, it was something that Naoki did not expect. But soon, he responded in kind as he hugged Yuri back, feeling her warmth as she leaned into him. The urbane setting, compounded with what had transpired all day, made the whole setting feel like something out of a romantic movie, and Naoki knew it would take some getting used to.

In the end, even though the tightness of her embrace had indicated otherwise, Yuri did have to go, though not without a few glances back at him as she went, her face brilliantly pink from her own daring. As he waved goodbye, Naoki knew his own face was also flushed, its heat fighting the evening's chill around him. Nevertheless, a moment of sudden closeness that risked the two of them getting stared at in public was nothing if it meant giving Yuri the comfort and hope she needed to look forward with hope.

When Yuri finally vanished from sight, Naoki took his cellphone out of his pocket, intending to send his mother a text. He saw, however, that she was already ahead of him, and the message she had sent brought everything else to a standstill.

"_they're pulling the plug tonight. will be home by 10 at most. don't wait up for me._"

Without a reply, Naoki put his phone away and stared out onto the street, mulling over everything in silence. Like the cars that passed by in front of him, life simply moved on, he mused. Still, he found himself choosing to hope all the same, knowing that sometimes it was all one could do as life went. He whispered a silent prayer for Tsuru Kobayashi and began the long walk home.

* * *

_A/N: My apologies for another delay. With the lockdown in effect here, I had to lend my laptop for a while for my sister to use as she works from home, interrupting my progress for this chapter since I had no other way to write. As such, I dunno if there'll be another time when I would need to lend her my laptop again and hence delay another chapter, but as of now it's all good. In case it does happen, I'll take a short break of a couple of days and begin writing the new chapter right after, just to get a good headstart._

_Once again, with all that has been happening lately, I hope you guys are doing well wherever you are. Please take care of yourselves, and stay safe._


	58. Chapter 58 - Voices To Be Heard

**CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT – VOICES TO BE HEARD (MoniKenta)**

The sophomore named Ami Chujo swallowed anxiously, her eyes glancing at the notes in her hand fleetingly with a mixture of fear and attempted focus. "Along with the other findings our team h-has found regarding the topic," she stammered, "there were also c-conducted surveys that reveal that more than seventy percent of the parents chosen as respondents s-still approve of the concept of more h-hands-on learning for elementary school pupils instead of utilizing g-gadgets such as cellphones and computers, a-and . . ."

But at that, her voice faltered, and again she snuck a peek at her notes, her face turning pink as she became more conscious about how much time she was spending. Monika regarded her patiently from the podium where she stood with Takeo, the two of them serving as the adjudicators to the mock debate that was happening.

"Okay, we went through this before, Ami," she told Ami, perusing her own papers for a moment, taking note of the arguments being made. "Just find that zone that you had earlier, okay? You did great before, don't worry!"

Ami shifted where she stood, her face turning pink as her nerves began to fail her. Next to her, her teammates looked rather relieved that it was not yet their turn to speak from their side. Given that both sides only had a few minutes each to deliver their arguments, it was quite a difficult job trying to perfect the delivery without overshooting the timekeeper by more than a few seconds every time. Monika smiled at her underlings encouragingly, but Takeo looked rather bored as he stood next to her. Still, looks could always be deceiving, and Monika could sense his impatience at the screw-ups and delays growing. He had yet to shift into his usual overbearing demeanor to put everyone in their place, but Monika was keen on keeping things under her control before she'd let Takeo's harsh approach derail the club's morale for the day, especially when they were close to wrapping things up.

"I-I'll try, Miss Monika," Ami stammered. "I'm sorry f-for stuttering during my delivery there. . ."

"That's okay, that's what we're here for. To curb that stage fright and get it all running smoothly," said Monika.

"And of course, a bit more effort from your parts wouldn't hurt," Takeo chimed in curtly.

Ami recoiled visibly at that. "I'm s-sorry, Sir Takeo."

"That's alright, Ami," Monika interjected before her vice president could say anything else. She waved at the mock timekeeper next to the podium, signaling him to pause his stopwatch and put the debate on hold. "Takeo's right in a sense, however," she continued, glancing around at the rest of the club. "As much as I don't want to pressure you all, it's important that we reach top form as soon as possible. You guys have your research nailed down perfectly already, but the delivery is where we really need to shine. I understand that the nationals are a whole lot different from the practice we're having right now. That's why Takeo and I are being more serious with how we're addressing your arguments and sides, and why we're switching topics every week instead of every two weeks. The adjudicators at Todai won't be too keen on hearing anything less than sound arguments and precise diction regardless of what they'll give us. We take care of that, and we'll be able to take on whatever topic they'll give us."

But in the end, in spite of the mixture of encouragement and realistic truth that Monika was giving, their hour-long mock debate reached only a passable level as it concluded around ten minutes later, less than what the nationals would expect from them at this point. Shaken by the decline in their performances, the rest of the debaters delivered their sides with more than a few peeks at their notes and a number of restarts as they failed to articulate their sentences properly without sounding too informal. Knowing that she had pushed everyone to their limit for the day, Monika called for a wrap-up and began giving everyone their next assignments.

"Alright, we're staying with this topic until Saturday, so that's when we'll have our last mock debate for it," she expounded as they gathered around the clubroom's main table. "I understand that there's a faculty event this coming Friday and the school's closing down for it early, so the clubroom won't be available then. Make sure you take the time to research and add a bit more information and points to your respective sides, okay? That won't hurt. Saturday will also be the last time Takeo and I will stand in as adjudicators. Starting next week, _you _will be taking turns presiding over the mock debates. Takeo feels that it will help you guys understand how to spot your side's weak points better, plus it'll help you write up your counterarguments more fluently. Make sure you check your e-mails tonight, since Ichika informed me earlier that she'll be sending the list of new topics that have been chosen and approved by Takeo. As usual, any research you make goes through Hayase, who'll then send it to me. Clear?"

In spite of their average effort earlier, the club members still seemed determined as they responded, "Yes, Miss Monika."

"Good," said Monika with a nod. "Oh, and one last thing. Try coordinating with each other via group chat to schedule who will be adjudicating. Make sure you all get a turn, okay? No one gets skipped, no one sneaks past. You all need to adjudicate at least twice before the nationals."

"Yes, Miss Monika," came the repeated routine answer.

"Alright, that'll be all for today. We'll see you tomorrow after class, as usual. Good work, everyone!"

Obviously, "good work" was not the best way to describe the above-average results of the club's meeting, but Monika knew that a bit more reassurance was always needed to keep her junior members' determination and confidence boosted for them to stay on track with the grueling pace of the road to the nationals. And even so, she took a sterner approach every once in a while, if only to bring out that edge that faltering members needed and temper their efforts further. Takeo, of course, would simply rely on being stern without openly commending any of the efforts made when they did pass the standards he'd often set.

In ten minutes, the clubroom had been emptied as everyone took off with their own batches of friends; even Takeo seemingly left early after picking up his things, leaving with his entourage of fellow senior club members. As always, Monika was the last to go, making sure that no notes or belongings were left behind right before she locked up the clubroom. When everything seemed clear, she exited the room and locked up, but that was when she noticed someone standing right next to her outside in the hallway.

"Ami? You're still here?"

The raven-haired sophomore walked timidly forward, clutching her books against her chest in a defensive manner. Compared to most of the other junior members, Monika knew her rather well given that she formed up part of the main debate team and had competed alongside her and Takeo before.

"I was w-wondering if I could talk to you for a moment, Miss Monika," said Ami reluctantly.

"Oh, sure thing! Where are your friends, though?"

"T-They're waiting for me outside."

"Oh, I see. Alright then, let's talk while we go downstairs."

She gestured at Ami, and the two of them walked down the corridor towards the stairs.

"I just w-wanted to apologize for my mistakes earlier, Miss Monika," Ami stammered as they went, her eyes looking doleful from beneath her spectacles. "I didn't expect to just bog d-down like that. I don't know what came over me. . ."

Monika gave her a motherly smile. "Ami, it's alright. There's nothing to apologize for."

Ami's lip trembled a little. "I'm just scared that . . . t-that I'll mess up again, and it'll put the team behind schedule like what happened last time."

"Like I said, that's why we're practicing in order to curb those mistakes and ensure that they won't happen again," said Monika earnestly. "Besides, these things happen, even when you think they won't. And I know you'll do better in our next practice session."

"B-But Takeo . . ." At that, Ami hesitated, as if speaking out their vice president's name would cause him to appear from out of nowhere with another criticism to make towards her. Monika sighed, feeling chagrined that Takeo's high standards were still causing their junior members to turn out like this; Ami was not the first member to talk to her out of the blue like this in order to gravely apologize for a failed effort, as if they had done Monika a great personal wrong.

"I know how severe Takeo can be," she told Ami as they went down the stairs, "and I understand his sentiments, even if I don't always agree with his approach. His criticisms don't always sound constructive, after all. When that happens, just treat it as you would any of the points that you listen to in any debate; acknowledge, analyze what needs to be addressed, and tackle. And just remember that in spite of how strict Takeo is, what he wants is what I also want for the club—to win the nationals at long last, and we can't do that without you guys."

Nervously, Ami nodded. "I understand, M-Miss Monika."

Again, Monika smiled at her. "Good. And if you feel like you're not cut out for it, just remember that the club's past efforts were instrumental in giving us yet another shot at the nationals in the first place. We all made that happen. Not just me, not just Takeo, not just the primary team, but _all of us. _With everyone in line and working together, we'll be able to do our best, and then . . . we'll see if we can finally bring that title home with us."

Soon, the two of them reached the ground floor, walking down the hallway to the school's entrance. "Just practice some more at home when you can, alright?" she told Ami as they went. "Hopefully we'll be able to ace this topic at last and get a bit of a breather before the next one comes."

"I will, Miss Monika," replied Ami, her stress from earlier now almost entirely replaced by determination and relief.

"Good." Standing next to the school's front doors now, Monika glanced outside for a moment before turning back towards her. "Anyway, I need to go on home now. Don't want to keep your friends waiting for you. Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

This time, Ami managed to smile. "We never really manage to tell you this enough, b-but . . . thank you for being a good leader to us, Miss Monika. Everyone in the club knows that, n-not just me. A-At first, we were pretty scared because of how it felt like we were just not in the same league as you or Sir Takeo, b-but we're glad that you're very open and patient with us, and that you even hang out with us from time to time, even if we're just freshmen or sophomores."

Her pale blue eyes glowed with reluctant admiration, as if she was addressing an older sibling that she idolized. And in a lot of ways, being that older sibling was how Monika interacted with Ami, Ichika and the other club members. In spite of the tiring days where practices didn't seem to go well and Takeo constantly had a chip on his shoulder, Monika always wanted to treat everyone with the same respect and openness she would show her other friends, letting them know that she was like them in a lot of ways, and not just a celebrity who sat out of reach on a pedestal. A rush of warmth coursed through her as she felt grateful for Ami's decision to treat her as the former instead of the latter, without any of the pretension or sucking-up that some people in the past had shown.

"Takeo is a good leader, too," Monika pointed out in a joking tone.

"Ah, of c-course he is!" said Ami, looking agitated all of a sudden. "I didn't mean to . . . W-What I meant is, er . . ."

"It's okay, I get what you were trying to say," said Monika genially, not wanting to dampen the sentiment behind the sophomore's words any further. "Thank you, Ami. I really appreciate that."

Ami inclined her head politely, her smile returning. "I'll just see you tomorrow. A-Again, thank you for your time, Miss Monika."

"Alright. Take care!" said Monika in return.

With that, Ami hurried out towards the doors, joining her friends who were waiting close to the main gate. Monika watched her go for a moment before she exited the school herself, feeling grateful that such a brief encounter helped relieve the tiredness that she often felt nowadays. Walking down the pathway towards the main gate, she looked idly around, glancing at the few students that remained on the school grounds. Not for the first time in the past week, she found herself wishing that Kenta was around, but Monika was sure that he was already on his way home. The two of them only had brief encounters from the past week, nothing as substantial as a date at the _Cocoa Connection _or their last good encounter at the school festival. The only comfort Monika drew came from his text messages; after all, even though they had yet to meet up again on a date, Kenta never failed to text her whenever he had time.

The familiar sight of her family's black car was already waiting for her some distance away from the school's gate. As she drew closer to it, Mr. Fujita stepped out with a ready smile on his elderly face.

"Good afternoon, Miss Monika," he said, taking Monika's schoolbag. "Ready to leave? Or do you have somewhere else to go before we make for home?"

Monika smiled back, wishing she could dare to have Mr. Fujita drop her off at the Yamaguchi residence like she had done back then, but a flash of her mother's stern face stopped her. And even then, Kenta would probably panic at the prospect of her arriving uninvited, especially after her mother had surprised him twice before.

"Home," she told Mr. Fujita, wishing that tomorrow—and the days to come—will be kinder.

* * *

Dinnertime, as always, was a quiet affair in the Steinbeck household. In spite of the inviting aromas of the lavish dishes on the dining table—an oden hotpot, roasted pork loin and a stir-fried assortment of in-season vegetables—the atmosphere was anything but warm and homely. Sitting a few feet away from her mother, who in turn sat close to her father, Monika ate in complete silence. No hints of familial table talk surfaced; her father was busy scrolling through e-mails on his phone, while her mother focused solely on eating like she did. Monika sighed inwardly, once again proven correct that nothing much changed in their household whether her parents were around or not.

"Jinno's asking if the meeting will pull through tomorrow," she heard her father say to her mother. "Do you think Ogura and his assistant will come?"

"They'd better," her mother replied. "I made it clear to Ogura that it'd be in his best interests to sign the contract before December. That way, he can have the materials he'll need in time for construction to begin in spring. He'll show up one way or another."

"Did you give him Sasamoto's number? He said he'd be in Eishima by next week. Maybe they can talk after everything's been signed."

"Not yet. I thought you were going to give it to him?"

"I thought your secretary was . . . Never mind. I'll send him an e-mail now."

With that, the conversation died down, and the dinner resumed its silent pace. Monika felt the ridiculous urge to laugh, if only to express her disdain at how the only thing that seemed substantial enough to break the enduring silence over their dinner table every night was anything that was related to their family business. Instead, she kept silent as she continued eating, intending to finish before her parents and skip the post-dinner tea in order to be alone in her room again.

As soon as she was done, however, her mother finished alongside her, setting down her utensils. She glanced over at her, and Monika felt a tingle on the back of her neck as she recognized the look in her eyes; it was the same look she had whenever she wanted to talk to her seriously about something. Steeling herself to the prospect, Monika stayed in her seat and waited.

The moment came when her father left the dining table and made his way up to his study in order to drink and smoke, signaling that the dinner was officially over. Monika followed her mother dutifully to the living room for their post-dinner tea, knowing that backing out of it was no longer an option—her mother would simply talk to her in her room if she had to. As soon as the tea had been prepared and the maids had gone back to the kitchen, her mother spoke up.

"So . . . how is practice doing?" she asked her.

Feeling cornered all of a sudden, Monika leaned back against her seat, sinking against the cushions a little. With how her mother asked things, she expected anything but earnest maternal concern.

"Tiring," she said truthfully, "but it's going well."

Her mother nodded, setting down her teacup and dabbing at the corners of her lips with a napkin. "There's something I need to ask you about."

_Here it comes. _That her mother began her approach with a trivial question about how her day went before going in on the attack was so characteristic of her. "What is it?" she asked.

Instead of replying immediately, her mother took her time refilling her teacup and idling with the sugar cubes for a moment. Monika resisted the urge to heave a sigh, not wanting to draw any unwanted irritation from her mother's part before this seemingly serious conversation had truly gone underway.

"I went to the bank earlier today," said her mother. "I was told that you withdrew quite a sum of money from your account last week. Is that true?"

Monika sat up straighter, looking directly into her mother's eyes, keeping her face impassive. Just like what she had told Ami earlier that day, she knew she would have to treat this encounter the same way she would treat a debate argument—listen, acknowledge, address.

"Yes, I did," she replied, knowing there was no use denying what her mother had already found out.

"For school? Or for something else? This is the first time you've spent such an amount in a very long time," her mother pointed out, her tone bordering on a mixture of interest and displeasure.

"It was for a friend," said Monika.

Her mother's breath hissed faintly through her nostrils at her words. "If you mean that redheaded boy from before—"

"No, it wasn't for Kenta," Monika interjected posthaste. "It was for a classmate of mine. She was in need. She got her money stolen, and she needed to pay her rent immediately. That's why I lent her some."

Her mother paused for a moment, as if she was planning her next attack. Whatever would come, Monika hoped she was ready to reply without losing her composure, especially with the household helpers in the kitchen easily within earshot; with how positively cavernous the house was, conversations often reverberated across its walls easily.

"So you just lent her the money without considering if her predicament was true or not," her mother said stiffly.

"Mom, trust me. I know my friends very well," Monika told her, "and she's not the kind who will lie about something like that."

"People can always be deceiving in as much as they can be deceived."

"It doesn't mean I was actually tricked, right? Besides, I rarely ever spend my money on anything substantial, so why can't I use it when I need to?"

"Because you didn't need to. It was your friend who did."

"Well, yes. Are you worried that she might not pay me back or something?" As she said these words, however, Monika knew that there was no way she would let Sayori pay her back for the seventy thousand yen. Even so, it was unlikely that her mother would diligently monitor her bank account to see if she had indeed been paid back.

Her mother beseeched her wordlessly for a moment, her gaze so completely serious that Monika wouldn't have been surprised if she began raising her voice. When she spoke again, however, her voice remained at the same tone and level of emotion.

"It's not the money that worries me, Monika," she told her, taking a small sip of tea from her cup. "It's the fact that you are putting your time and trust into people who might end up just using you."

Startled, Monika looked over at her. Partly, she had expected her mother to begin a sermon on how to properly handle people who asked for favors like money, but somehow she did not expect anything as blunt and . . . _personal_ as this. When she found herself unable to say anything in return, her mother went on.

"You might think I'm forcing you to deal with a lot of things on your own simply because I'm too neglectful as a parent, or that I'm keeping you from seeing your friends because I want you to just focus on studying and being a model student. That's what you think, yes?"

"I . . . Not really," Monika muttered, her lie being borne out of uncertainty more than anything else at the moment.

"Well, I'm going to tell you now that my intentions are quite more than just that," said her mother, placing her hands on the table in a formal manner, reminding Monika of how she narrated her own points in a debate. "This is something I never get to tell you about, and it's high time I say it to you at last.

_What on earth did they put in her tea? _Given that she had gone by for a very long time without ever being talked to like this, Monika felt continuously surprised and confused regarding her mother's own brand of parental wisdom.

"Mom, I'm sorry for interrupting, but . . . where exactly is this coming from?" she asked, aghast.

"You'll find out in a moment," her mother replied curtly. Again, she drank some tea and set the cup down, her formal bearing now a presage to something ominous. Monika could feel the stern resolve brimming from her like a palpable aura, and she felt that keeping quiet and listening was a better idea than arguing right off the bat.

"The thing is, I've been through the same motions you're going through right now, Monika," her mother continued solemnly. "Oh, yes, I have. It's hard to believe, I know, but I've been there. Having friends clinging to me, having admirers in the middle of my school years, thinking that I have all the time in the world to do what I want. It's one of the best feelings in the world, that youthful optimism and joy. It makes you feel free and secure, and lets you think that the future can't come soon enough. But as time passed, I saw that time is not as generous as we want it to be, and that people do come and go. Missed opportunities and mistakes started standing out more, and the people that stayed by my side before, some of them choose to leave after they've seen that I've given them what they want—my time and attention, and my help as well. That continued even when I started looking for work, and it only got more difficult from there.

"Before I met your father, I used to work the nine-to-five here in Eishima, hoping that I could at least find work worthy of the education I received. That would have been achievable in other countries—difficult, but achievable. Here, however . . . well, let's just say that some things are still deeply rooted in our culture make that prospect even more challenging. At first, I didn't want to believe it, naïve and hopeful as I was. I thought that with hard work and good credentials, I would be able to make a name for myself and provide well for my family in spite of the obstacles in my way. But being a hard worker and having a good educational background simply won't be enough to prepare you for the stigma, or the backdoor dealings and greased palms, or the sycophants who would smile in your face and step on you the moment your back was turned if it meant securing a position over you. You literally had to claw your way to the top if you wanted to reach your goal, and if you weren't solid enough for that, you'd get swept away eventually. If you go through that kind of adversity, that's when you are given the choice to adapt and keep climbing. And that's what I did."

Listening to her mother's tone taking on an icy, bitter shade, Monika still had no words to say. A brief lull interrupted the discussion as her mother drank some more tea. Monika observed her keenly, seeing her in a different light for the first time.

"I started by knowing the people around me first," her mother continued after she finished drinking. "I had to separate the untrustworthy ones from the decent ones, but even that proved difficult because, as I've told you earlier, people can deceive you even when you least expect it. I knew then that the only ironclad solution I had was to guard myself against anyone who might want to use me for their own purposes. Keep them at bay, gauge their motives, and know their characters. It's helpful in sealing business deals, and even more so when you do it to protect yourself against any crookedness. The hardest part is severing ties, but once you set your priorities straight and free yourself from any distractions or unwanted burdens, you'll see the sense in cutting off some people."

That stirred Monika's thoughts at last. "Are you saying that . . . that to you, my friends are the same as those people you met before? The ones you cut off for being dead weight or users?"

Her mother regarded her coldly. "You can never tell, Monika. If you believe they're all trustworthy, you'd be setting yourself up for a lot of disappointment. And pain."

"But that doesn't mean I should think all of them _aren't _trustworthy."

"True, not all of them may end up simply using you for their own gain or gratification, but most of them will only end up falling by the wayside as you mature. These high school cliques, these admirers . . . most of the time, they're just here for the present. And in some cases, they may even end up as obstacles to the future."

Monika heaved a sigh of exasperation. "So what do you want me to do, then?"

"Focus on your future," her mother replied. "And try thinking if your choices and your friends will help you with that. You see, I want you to be able to stand up by yourself and for yourself, Monika. I want you to know what it's like to focus on what needs to be done, to know the people you are dealing with, and to remember that in the end, only you can help yourself when you're facing a crisis. Remember these things, because they will help you not just at school or when you follow our footsteps in the family business, but with life in general. Because when you have that solid foundation beneath your feet, whatever adversity this world brings you, whether it's in the form of one-time friends or culture-driven impediments or being thrown into the unknown on your own, you will still come out successful."

Finishing her litany, her mother emptied another cup of tea, her intensity diminishing slowly like dying flames in a hearth. Monika, on the other hand, could only keep staring at her for a moment. Given how similar the two of them looked, down to their brown hair and green eyes, it was as if she was being lectured by not just her mother, but also by her future self in some way. And while her mother did not say anything specific about her experiences, Monika did not have to go too far to see what she meant; from her constant seriousness to her devotion to the family business, these were characteristics that were undoubtedly shaped by her mother's experiences in working office jobs before starting a successful enterprise with her father.

"You haven't had any tea yet," her mother pointed out after a while. "Go on, have some."

Nodding, Monika poured herself a fresh cup of tea and took a few sips, using the lull in their conversation to once again articulate her thoughts before she said anything. Her mother carried on with her own cup of tea as well, although Monika could also sense that she was anticipating what she had to say even if her eyes were cast elsewhere.

"Mom, I . . . I get what you're trying to tell me," Monika began once she had emptied her cup, "and to be honest, it's just surprising because . . . well, this is the first time you actually sat down to talk to me like this in a very long time."

"I know," said her mother. "I figured it was a good enough time for you to know what I think, especially with where you are right now and the kind of people you spend your time with."

"But that's the problem, Mom. I know you mean well, but that doesn't mean the kind of experiences I have right now—and the friends I have—aren't necessarily going to turn out the same way they did for you. My friends are not obstacles to what I want to achieve. In fact, you can say that having them is what keeps me going when the going gets tough. Without them, I don't even know what will happen or if I'll be able to shoulder the weight I'm carrying sometimes."

"But like I said, you can never be too sure with people today, Monika. And the work only gets tougher from here on out, so having distractions and additional burdens are the last things you'd want when that happens."

"They _won't _be distractions. I'm doing my best to reach the kind of success you're asking me to achieve, distracted or otherwise," said Monika, putting in an obstinate edge into her tone. "Besides, I've handled things rather well, even if I've been alone for a very long time," she added with a hint of bitterness.

Her mother stared at her rather coldly, and for a moment, Monika paused as she imagined glimpsing a different emotion beneath her gaze—a hint of regret.

"I know it seems cruel for me and your father to be someplace else while you're going through the rest of your teenage years alone," she told her. "I wanted to take you with us a lot of times, but the constant travel, the difficulty in keeping yourself in just one secure spot . . . it wouldn't be worth the trouble on your part. That's why we decided to have you stay here, so that you will be as grounded as possible as you finish high school, free of the hassle of changing schools or traveling across the country just so you can be with us."

Monika sighed, looking away. As much as she would have liked spending more of her latter teenage years with her parents, she saw the sense in her mother's reasoning. Still, the regrets that came with such a choice were still starker than ever.

"I'm trying my best, Mom," she told her mother softly. "I really am. I know we often disagree on a lot of things, but the last thing I want is to disappoint you or Dad. Just . . . please. I'm asking you to trust me with the choices I make, whether about how I approach my studies or how I deal with people, or who I make friends with. Because when you ignore my side and just foist your own opinions and sentiments on me, and when you make choices on my behalf without telling me first . . . it hurts. And I'm hurt as well for my friends, like Kenta and Sayori, whom you think are just distractions or obstacles in my studies and in my life. They're not. They're wonderful people who have gotten me through a lot of hectic times when I needed someone to talk to.

"I'm not saying this to disregard what you wanted to tell me, or to rebel against you and Dad for anything that we might have disagreed about. Because trust me, I get it, I understand where you came from and that you're just looking out for me. But I want you to know that . . . I have a voice, too. And I would really appreciate it if you took the time to hear it first before you jump to any conclusions."

When silence descended once again upon them, Monika felt that she had said quite enough. True, there was still a lot more that she wanted to tell her mother, but this was a good start nonetheless. How her mother would react to all this, or whether she would approach her differently in the future, it all fell in the hands of fate now. The first die had been cast, and Monika hoped that she had made a good throw.

Her mother drank some more tea, set down her teacup and placed her hands neatly atop her lap. All business-like, she looked at her, as if she was about to renegotiate a deal with a stubborn client, but when she spoke, Monika was surprised to see that her serious tone had mellowed somewhat.

"Alright. I'll keep in mind what you said just now. If it ever seemed like your father and I disregarded your side in the things we decide on, I'm sorry."

Monika stopped short from openly heaving a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Mom. I hope now we understand each other better."

"Yes, I hope so, too," said her mother. "Just know that . . . whatever happens, your father and I only want what's best for you, Monika. And to me, what's best for you is that you don't experience the harsh and bitter climb I had to endure in order to get where I am now. I want to help you clear your path, so that you'll be successful in your studies and secure in your future."

"Well, like I said, I'll do my best not to let you and Dad down," said Monika earnestly. "For now, just let me focus on doing things my way. You can be sure that I won't do anything that I feel will be detrimental to myself or my aspirations. Whatever comes in the future will come."

Her mother let out a sigh of her own, nodding. "Hopefully, you'll be ready for it. Anyway, I think I've had enough tea for tonight. I still need to talk to your father about a few things, so I have to go upstairs now. Don't you need to study?"

"We don't really have any homework for tonight, but I do need to check a few e-mails from the club, in case anything needs to be settled," replied Monika.

"Very well." Her mother stood up and smoothed out her skirt. "Try not to stay up late. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, Mom. Good night," said Monika, giving her a small smile. "And . . . thanks for the talk. I really hope we get to do that a lot more."

Her mother looked down at her. For a moment, Monika imagined her smiling back, to see a bit more warmth from her that would complement the openness she had just displayed, but her mother could only give her another nod as she shifted back into her formal demeanor.

"Yes, I hope we do," she said.

With that, she turned and went up the stairs. As Monika watched her go, she wondered if she would be able to see more of her mother's meaningful side in the future, or if things would simply and slowly go back to how they were before. Whatever the case, she was grateful that through their discussion, she had found out something in her mother that she could empathize with.

* * *

An hour later, as she sat at her desk within the quiet confines of her bedroom, Monika began her nightly ritual as she idled with the last few lines of a new poem. From the hectic turn of events at the debate club earlier to the conversation she and mother had, she knew that it was an opportune time to add another one in her notebook as the drive to write began to fill her. And of course, there was Kenta, who would keep popping up in her mind long after she had turned off the lights in her room and lain down on her bed to sleep.

"_When words have failed, the light seems to wane._

_But even so, one often asks,_

_Do words ever fail?_

_When emotions simmer and thoughts soar_

_In this world of infinite choices and trials,_

_Isn't it true that only words_

_Can bring meaning to those left alone in the dark?_

_To speak softly, or to cry out loud,_

_To wrestle against the binds of circumstance_

_And find that spark in the middle of it all,_

_That gives meaning its soul,_

_Perhaps that's why one always seeks to be heard,_

_And maybe that's what voices are truly for._"

Placing her pen down next to her notebook, Monika imagined the words whispering at her from the page as the ink dried. She imagined her message being conveyed well enough already, but she knew there was always room for another stanza—and another, and maybe even more after that, for as long as there were pages to fill and words to share, and as long as she had the drive and courage to write them down. Monika smiled to herself. Perhaps this was why, in a lot of cases, there were a lot of remarkable parallels between poetry and life, even more than one might initially think.

* * *

_A/N: It's four in the morning already here at my place, but boy am I glad to turn this chapter in at long last. I was bouncing between writing this chapter and the new one I have for my Danganronpa fic, and I bogged down and lost a week's worth of progress due to writer's block. But I bounced back and seized what drive I could to finish, polish and upload this chapter today/tonight whatever the cost. I'm sorry if it took too long._

_Once again, I pray that you're all doing fine wherever you are. Take care of yourselves, and keep safe!_


	59. Chapter 59 - A Cold Night Out

**CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE – A COLD NIGHT OUT**

The announcement of having the next batch of exams arriving one week late for December had provided a wholly different chill upon the backs of the majority of Koizumi Academy's students, even as the season drew ever closer to winter and made the weather too cold for everyone's liking. Akihiro was one of those who heaved an indignant, resigned sigh upon hearing the news, though he knew that they would simply have to shoulder the weight of it eventually. Because December offered a bit of respite for everyone with the holiday season, it often meant that their second exams came some time before the holiday vacations start, giving students enough time to enjoy the stress-free days that followed. Holding the exams late, while keeping anticipation sharp for the arrival of the holiday season, would mean that students would have to wait with dread for the inevitable a little while longer.

Akihiro glanced over at his cellphone's calendar to gauge the possibilities as his friends debated silently around him. "Third week of December 'at best,' they say? They can't be serious!" one of them hissed. "My folks have already made plans for that time! I'm not staying behind while they go off to Tokyo!"

"They did have a legit reason for the exam delay, though," said another. "Besides, if they said 'at best,' that means there's still the possibility that the exams might happen on the usual schedule."

"Nah, if they announced it this early already, it means it's more or less official now. Damn. I just wish they'd extend the Christmas Bazaar if we're gonna miss out on the first few days of it."

Akihiro looked up at that, but he said nothing yet. The annual Christmas Bazaar at downtown Eishima was one of the biggest highlights of the holiday season that the teenagers around town looked forward to; though Christmas was not as big of a religious holiday in Japan as it was abroad, it did provide the best time for families, couples and friends to get together, and the city capitalized on such a prospect with the bazaar. For students who didn't leave the city to go on vacations to the other prefectures, it was a truly nice way to spend most of the holidays, whether through a romantic date with boyfriends or girlfriends or through a festive jaunt with their comrades.

Naturally, in Akihiro's case, the holiday season would be the perfect time to make Sayori happy, with the bazaar providing the proverbial cherry on top. He had made the decision in the wake of her recent hiccup with her monthly allowance from her parents—a problem that had luckily been addressed by none other than Monika—and the resulting hit it made on Sayori's overall happiness; Akihiro had been ready to do the unthinkable as a gamer and sacrifice his well-tended online game accounts to make enough money for Sayori's problem. This particular idea had come from his recent dealings with his friends, where their talk of item raids had turned towards the topic of just how much money other gamers would pay for said items and other things in-game such as cosmetic bundles. However, before Akihiro had taken any final steps in his plans, Sayori had quickly notified him with the news that after a brief meeting with her, Monika had graciously offered to give her the money she needed. Though Akihiro was just as thankful as she was about Monika's save, it had not stopped him from guessing at the other possibilities brought by his idea of selling his game accounts.

All things considered, it wasn't a bad idea. Having accumulated quite a few accounts consisting of various player builds from different popular online games—_Arclight_, _Dungeon Delvers_, _Huntsman's Dusk _and _Skies of Justice_, to name a few—Akihiro was somewhat curious with just how much money he could get from selling a particular game character build that was already decked out with high-level gear, skills and attributes. Admittedly, he had never dabbled in such trades, but the fact that it could help get enough money to treat Sayori to a nice and romantic time for a few days and nights was a good reason for him to consider trying it out. If an account matched a player's fancy, he knew that they could fetch at least seven thousand yen each, judging from what he had seen in posts before; certain forums that he had browsed even had prices going up to almost twice as much with players abroad, though he knew that in spite of the many hours he had devoted into creating his character builds, he was nowhere near a position to demand such a price. _Still worth a shot, though._

Akihiro pored over his calendar again and matched up their prospective exam schedule with the bazaar, and soon he saw that there would only be around four days for him to take Sayori out on dates, and more than a month to spend trying to get just enough money for those four dates. And other than these technical developments, there was still the possible problem involving Sayori's recent emotional state. He pocketed his cellphone and began to think, ignoring his friends' ongoing grievances about their own plans for the holidays. Ever since she had lost her parents' money, Sayori had started keeping her distance from him all over again, communicating only through text and telling him that she was doing just fine. Of course, where Sayori was concerned, Akihiro sensed that she might be hiding more inner turmoil than she was letting on, which had greatly influenced his decision to plan the bazaar dates in the first place. With the recent announcement, Akihiro sensed that the worry and stress brought by the upcoming exams would exacerbate Sayori's emotional state even further. It was a callback to the tumultuous time they had during the weeks leading up to their preliminary exams, a time that he no longer wanted to come back to.

When classes ended later in the afternoon, Akihiro made his way towards one of the convenience stores near the school and sent her a quick text, intending to wait around in case Sayori would reply.

"_hey, where u at? wanna grab a quick bite?_" Even as he sent the text message, Akihiro was aware of how awkward it might sound, but sometimes there was no other way to entice Sayori than an invitation to eat somewhere. Still, to reduce the informal nature of his message, Akihiro added, "_i'm downtown rn, if ur up 2 it, just tell me!_"

But even after half an hour had passed, Sayori sent him neither a text nor a call. Akihiro finished the bottle of root beer that he had bought and left the store to go home. He passed a few of his friends along the way, and while their invitation to go eat downtown was a welcome one, Akihiro turned them down, not wanting to commit himself to anything in case Sayori suddenly texted him and accepted his invite. As such, he also slowed down his pace as he walked, delaying as much as he could.

As he dilly-dallied on his way home, he passed by one of the first streets that connected Eishima's residential areas to the downtown complex. The city seemed to grow more vibrant as the evening came, as if its lights and buzzing night life stood out in defiance against the onset of the dreary cold. Come November, the streets, buildings and establishments would already be adorned with additional decorations to add to the festive air of the coming holidays, from sparkling lights to Christmas trees and even a little bit of snow should the air grow cold enough, returning to the city the colors it had lost and more after the majority of its trees had shed their leaves for the coming of winter. The prospect of it filled Akihiro with a bit of excitement, belying the anxiety that he should be feeling with their exams coming in first.

No text message came from Sayori even after he had arrived at his apartment unit. Akihiro booted up his computer and made his way to the bathroom for a quick wash, wondering if he should keep trying with her all the while. Though he was no stranger to eating alone, there was now an empty feeling nudging at him whenever he would have dinner by himself without hearing from Sayori. It made him think of the times that they had eaten dinner together, more frequently back in middle school, and even less so now in high school. He remembered the times she would shyly ask to taste the food he was eating, or when she would invite him for dessert at some convenience store only to find out that she had forgotten to bring some extra money along. Those were indeed happier days, and Akihiro was sorry that he had taken them for granted when they happened, failing to realize just how much warmth he and Sayori had shared in their antics and jaunts long before they had chosen to become a couple.

When he had finished changing out of his school uniform and into a warmer set of clothes, he took a quick peek at the _Arclight _forum he had been visiting recently to distract himself for a while. After he had picked up the idea of selling his accounts, he had tested the waters somewhat by browsing the forum for any posts about prospective buyers, or for confirmation from other users who were planning to sell like him. True enough, there were quite a number of them, giving him a bit of hope, but he also saw how tricky it could be to find the right buyer. In popular games like _Arclight_, any buyers appraised everything closely, from a character's skillset to the rarity and value of their equipped gear to their viability when going up against other players with characters of equal strength. Skeptics would indeed be surprised at just how serious some gamers were about their favorite games to consider actually spending good money for a specific build that they wish to acquire. Naturally, the forums also came with reminders about being diligent with any prospective buyers as well as the occasional uncertainty from a random user about the legality of buying and selling, but Akihiro already had an idea on how to go about things—with the added insight and experience of his fellow gamers in school—should he choose to sell for real.

Once he had browsed what he could, Akihiro closed his internet browser and contemplated playing a short game before having dinner. But the silence in his apartment unit seemed to be magnified to an extra degree, making him realize once again how alone—and lonely—he felt, drowning out any motivation he had about playing a game. For a moment, he could only stare at his desktop wallpaper, waiting for both something and nothing in particular.

A beep from his cellphone made him scramble for a moment, but he soon saw that it was only a message from Kenta. Still, ever ready for company from anyone in their group, Akihiro opened the message to take a look.

"_yo bro, u busy? just need someone 2 talk 2…_"

"_hello there! waddup?_" he replied, adding a bit of lightness to his reply as he felt eager for some company. But even after ten minutes had passed, Kenta did not follow up his first message with another; Akihiro sensed that he might be thinking twice about potentially bothering him, and it reminded him some more of Sayori. As he waited for Kenta to reply, he stared at Sayori's number right below his last message to him in his phone's inbox. He found himself smiling fondly, missing her all over again and feeling hopeful that Christmas would make up for the distance that seemed to be forming between them again. _Whatever you're doing right now, whatever you're thinking of, I hope you're doing just fine, Sayori._

Kenta finally replied after a few more minutes. "_just lost rn, sorry for txting outta nowhere. mom went out and sis ain't home yet, so i just went out 4 a walk. u out too?_"

"_not rly, at home rn. where u at?_"

"_night market. i txted daisuke and naoki, asked them if they wanted 2 come along, eat somewhere and stuff. they haven't replied yet_"

Akihiro read the message again, sensing that Kenta was looking for company for tonight like he was—and that there was more to this than he was letting on. Begrudgingly, he wondered if the announcement earlier about the coming exams had anything to do with the lethargy, loneliness and downhill slide that he and the others were feeling. Whatever the case, though, Akihiro was more than ready to acquiesce to an invite; apart from a desire to distract himself from the isolation around him, he had not forgotten the times when Kenta had been there to give him reassurance and advice when he had been the one in need.

An idea popped up in his head. "_wanna visit daisuke instead at their diner?_" he told Kenta through text. "_we can just eat dinner there, if the boys r up 2 it_"

Again, Kenta's reply took a while before it rolled in. "_haven't thought of that TBH. sounds good. alright, imma tell daisuke we're coming over_"

"_alright, OMW 2 downtown rn. let's meet up at big tom's. see ya in a few!_"

As he had instructed, he found Kenta waiting for him next to _Big Tom's _around ten minutes later. Like him, Kenta was wearing a haphazard mix of house clothes with a jacket thrown on top to ward off the evening's cold. From a distance, he looked somewhat put out, his tall and athletic frame ostensibly diminished against the light of the store he was standing in front of. When he spotted Akihiro walking towards him, though, his face brightened up with relief.

"How's it going, man?" he asked, clapping him hard on the shoulder as soon as he was within reach.

"Just fine, brother. Just fine," said Akihiro with a smile, feeling his loneliness from earlier fading a little. "How about you? You alright?"

Kenta shifted where he stood, his opal eyes gleaming as he grinned back. "Doing okay, I guess," he replied with a shrug. "I'm just pretty tired from earlier, and I figured a little stroll will do me some good. Only made me hungry as heck, though."

"Tell me about it," said Akihiro, laughing a little. But in spite of Kenta's smile and his attempt to lighten things up further, however, he could sense again that something was troubling him. Since the festival, he had been unable to spend more time with him and the rest of the quartet, busy as he was with his own group of friends from 3-B. Even so, he had always assumed that Kenta, Daisuke and Naoki were doing just fine, given how he still saw the three of them banding together every day for lunch. But now, as he looked in Kenta's face and saw an air of heaviness beneath the wisecracking, jolly gleam of his opal eyes, Akihiro wondered if there was more that was getting to his redheaded comrade other the early mental and emotional burdens of the upcoming exams.

Instead of putting him on the spot instantly, however, Akihiro decided to tackle their planned excursion for the evening. "Did Daisuke reply yet?" he asked.

"Not yet. I called his cell a few times, but he's not picking up. He might be busy or something," said Kenta, taking a look at his cellphone. "As for Naoki, he can't come along. He told me that he's busy helping his mom with something."

"Ah, that's a shame. But there's always next time," said Akihiro.

"Yep, hopefully." Kenta frowned, pocketing his cellphone. "Maybe we should just go to the diner already. If we wait around longer, it might be closing time already."

"I'm cool with that," said Akihiro. "Let's bounce."

* * *

The dynamic air of downtown Eishima belied the subdued feeling in Kenta's being. Granted, such lethargy had been prevailing over him for days now. The burden of his choice to steer clear of Monika continued to take its toll, making him question many times over if he was doing the right thing. Every time he imagined himself accompanying her after school, whether to ask her out on a brief jaunt downtown or to check if she was doing just fine, her mother's shadow lurked at the back of his mind like a warning, almost as ominous as her words to him during that fateful day in front of the _Cocoa Connection. _Holding back seemed like the right thing to do, he mused, but he also remembered Monika's own sentiments—of how she sought him out precisely because she felt more at ease and relieved from her stress when she was with him. Almost painfully, he remembered that one time she surprised him along with Akihiro and Sayori, telling him more of just how much Monika valued his company just as much as he valued hers.

And yet, here he was. The more Kenta chose to distance himself from Monika, the more painful it felt, especially compared to the times when he valued her opinion of him more than what the hecklers and naysayers said about their relationship. Burdened by these musings, his mood was exacerbated further when he had arrived home earlier to find that his sister and mother were not around. Though Kenta wanted to relish the chance of being alone by playing loud music and eating what he wanted from their refrigerator like what he would usually do, the feeling of loneliness and heaviness in him soon grew as the minutes passed inside the empty Yamaguchi residence. That was when he had decided to drag himself to a small walk downtown, hoping to clear his head even for just one evening straight. Akihiro's company was definitely a welcome surprise, and Kenta could not privately thank him enough for choosing to accompany him so readily.

"How's Sayori doing?" he asked as they walked along the sidewalk.

"She's doing better, I think," Akihiro replied. "Remember that time when I was looking for her at the festival? Well, I paid her a visit after you suggested it, and . . . she got into a bit of a pickle."

"Oh, I hope it wasn't anything too serious," said Kenta.

"It almost was, if it wasn't for Monika's help," said Akihiro with a small laugh.

"Wait, Monika?" Her name sent another stab of longing in Kenta's heart, but he shook it off for now, intending to focus on having a proper conversation with Akihiro instead. "She didn't tell me about this yet. What happened, exactly?"

Akihiro sighed, as if the severity of Sayori's problem returned to linger around him now that it was brought up again. "Sayori misplaced the money she was supposed to use as her monthly allowance and to pay for her rent," he replied as they rounded a street corner. "That, or someone pickpocketed her when she wasn't aware. Anyway, we were trying to figure out where we could get money for her and whether we should tell her mom straightaway."

"Damn. Good thing that was taken care of quickly, then."

"Yes, thankfully. Sayori met up with Monika, and she told her about what happened. Monika just straight up offered to give her the money she needed to replace what she lost."

Kenta smiled fondly. "Monika's really something, eh?"

"Yeah, that was really nice of her," said Akihiro, smiling as well. "I'm sure Sayori's thinking of a way to repay her, even though Monika said that she didn't have to."

"Well, that's Monika for ya! She really likes looking out for her friends and helping them out however she can. That's one of her best qualities, if you ask me."

"I can vouch for that. She helped out a lot of our classmates back in sophomore year, those who needed help with academics and all. Small wonder she's really popular."

"Yeah, small wonder." Kenta sighed, knowing all too well just how popular Monika was from all the resentment and jeering he had received from most of the male students who fancied her in secret. That Monika had chosen to be with him of all people was still something that he had not fully grown used to, but it was a comforting fact nonetheless.

The walk to Daisuke's place took them around ten more minutes. The diner's lights were still on, making them quicken their pace as they hoped to see other patrons still being served at this hour. Granted, they had thirty more minutes before closing time, but given that Daisuke had not replied at all to his texts, Kenta did not want to bank on any guarantees.

In a timely manner, the front doors of the diner opened as they approached, and they saw Daisuke coming out with a cardboard box in his arms. "Oy, Daisuke!" Kenta immediately yelled, his loud voice reverberating at the dimly lit street around them.

Daisuke looked around, his eyes lighting up in surprise as he saw him and Akihiro approaching. "Whoa, what're you guys doing here?" he called out, setting down his box and walking over to them.

"I've been texting and calling you for the past hour, ya dolt!" said Kenta as Daisuke bumped fists with him and Akihiro. "I was asking if anyone in the group was up for a short night out, to eat and have fun and stuff. Naoki couldn't make it, but luckily Akihiro was free."

"That's nice," said Daisuke, grinning. "Anyway, I'm sorry for not picking up. I left my phone at my room all evening, been helping Mom finish these orders for a friend. I was just about to wait for them to pick it up when you two showed up."

"Ah, no wonder you weren't answering," said Kenta. "Luckily, we thought that we should just try going to your place and eat here instead. Are you guys still open?"

"Yeah, Mom managed to find extra help a couple of weeks back, so the diner's able to close at nine now instead of eight," replied Daisuke. "Anyway, come on in and I'll get you two some seats!"

The interior of the _Matsuda Eatery _provided them with a fresh feeling of warmth and coziness, especially given the place's rustic feel. Three of the tables were still occupied by customers, no doubt taking their time to eat in order to avoid having to go out early in the evening's chill. Daisuke led Kenta and Akihiro to one of the tables near the diner's front windows.

"I'll just wait for Mom's friend to pick things up, and then I'll get back to you two," he told them as they sat down. "See you in a bit!"

"Sure thing, man," said Kenta. When Daisuke had left, he turned to Akihiro. "You wanna order now, or should we wait for him?"

"Let's just wait," replied Akihiro. He glanced around at the diner's sights, nodding appreciatively. "I should eat here more often. Why I never invited Sayori on a date here is beyond me."

Kenta grinned in approval, basking in the diner's ambience as well. Privately, he wondered if Monika would also be up for a date here. _Maybe after the nationals, _he mused with a bit of hope, though Mrs. Steinbeck kept popping up like an unwanted guest as he tried dwelling on the prospect.

"Why don't you ask her to come over here, too?" he asked Akihiro, trying to distract himself. "I mean, if she's okay having me and Daisuke around."

"To be honest, my original plan was to ask her out tonight. Go eat dinner somewhere, have fun after, the usual," said Akihiro. "But she didn't reply to any of my texts. I thought that maybe she's just busy, or that she's . . . you know, still shook up and bothered by her recent problem.

"I see. Maybe she's just busy for tonight?"

"I hope that's the case. I mean, you know what happened before, right?"

"Ah, yeah, I remember. . ."

Daisuke returned around five minutes later, prompting the two of them to begin ordering at the counter. Daisuke helped them choose between some of the diner's new additions, including a serving of _kakuni _that Kenta decided to try out. Daisuke's mother, who had shown up from the kitchen to ask for help from one of her workers at the front counter, greeted the two of them warmly as soon as she caught sight of them.

When the orders had been punched, Daisuke finally joined them as they returned to their table. "Really wish we had Naoki with us," he said as they sat down. "It's always lacking when one's not around."

"Yeah, real shame," said Kenta. "I'm sure he's available tomorrow, so maybe we can just invite him to go out then."

"If it's not gonna be too busy around here, I'm down with that," said Daisuke. "It's just that the diner's been on a bit of a roll lately. Most of Mom's acquaintances and best customers usually have their celebrations during this season, before and during the holidays, as you might've guessed earlier. The diner needs all hands on deck to take care of everything, so I help out as soon as I get home from school."

"Then we'll just come over here like we did tonight," Akihiro suggested. "Besides, it's getting more and more crowded at the venues downtown. It'd be better if we had a go-to place just for ourselves, like here. If you'll have us, that is."

"Yeah, Mom would definitely like that," said Daisuke lightly. "A few of our other classmates know about the place, but she'd be delighted if you also came in every so often."

"What about Natsuki? I'm sure she's been here many times before, right?" Kenta quipped.

"Just a few times," Daisuke confessed, laughing. "That one time was when we baked those cupcakes for the festival. As for the other times, well . . ." He paused for a moment, glancing over at Kenta before turning to Akihiro.

"I'll tell you more when Kenta's not around," he joked in an undertone.

"Now that's just rude!" Kenta grumbled as the two of them began to laugh. "You and Naoki like pulling off stuff like this even though I share my stories with you!"

"Sorry, sorry," said Daisuke, still chortling. "Anyway, it was just simple stuff, when Natsuki was here. It wasn't like we had a date here or something. Besides, if we had a date, Hiroko would just be there all the time to tease me about it. Natsuki's cool with her and all, but I don't want her feeling too awkward with all the teasing and jokes."

"Ah, tell me about it," said Kenta. "Kanae picks on me the first chance she gets ever since she learned about Monika."

"Just wait for her to start dating, and you can get back at her," said Akihiro, laughing again.

"Can't wait for that, to be honest," Kenta said with a chuckle.

By the time their food arrived, the streets had grown even darker outside the diner's windows, with the cold keeping their appetites sharp. As always, the food was absolutely divine, with the pork _kakuni _proving to be a worthy addition to the diner's simple but delectable menu items. Kenta ate eagerly, only noticing then how his preoccupation with his dilemma with Monika had kept him from feeling hungry. Daisuke watched them eat instead, reasoning that he would be eating at a later time with his mother and sister. Fewer customers were starting to show up, with most ordering take-outs instead of dining in as the hour passed. As he ate alongside Akihiro and chatted with him and Daisuke, Kenta began to feel more at ease, especially after the weariness that had been plaguing him earlier. The conversations took various turns, from recent developments at school to the big announcement about the exams, with the three of them taking turns airing their grievances about the announcement and expressing hope of the holidays that will come afterwards. But the warmth of the interactions around him and the sense of companionship made Kenta think of Monika as well, filling him once again with a desire to invite her out on a night like this, to eat and enjoy each other's company and plan for future excursions with enthusiasm and gusto.

"Kenta? You there, man?"

Kenta snapped to, looking up from his bowl of _kakuni_. The conversations had stopped, and Akihiro and Daisuke were both looking at him from their seats.

"What is it?" he asked them.

"You just became quiet all of a sudden," said Akihiro, mixing up his bowl of katsudon some more. "You alright?"

"Oh." Kenta straightened up, only realizing then that he had drifted off with his thoughts about Monika. "Y-Yeah, I'm alright. I was just thinking about something."

"Hey, man, you know I was just joking about not telling you stuff earlier, right?" said Daisuke, looking a little concerned.

"Yeah, yeah, no worries about that," said Kenta, waving his hand airily with a grin. "Jeez, it's not like me to feel so down after just one joke. I'm just . . ."

He let out a sigh, poking at a piece of pork with his chopsticks. "I just miss Monika, that's all," he admitted. "I know it's kinda mushy and all, but it's just one of those days, I guess."

Akihiro and Daisuke kept staring at him for a moment, as if they had no idea how to respond. Kenta couldn't blame them; even after their last meaningful encounter at the festival, he had told them and Naoki nothing about what was transpiring between him and Monika.

"Did you two have, like . . . a fight or something?" Daisuke asked with an air of reluctance.

"Not really," said Kenta. "It's something that happened before the festival."

Akihiro gazed upon him with brotherly concern. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked. "We're right here, man. We'll listen and help you if we can."

"Yeah, definitely," added Daisuke.

Kenta heaved a sigh, tapping his chopsticks silently against his bowl of _kakuni_. "As long as you guys promise not to let Monika know," he said heavily.

Daisuke and Akihiro looked at each other for a moment, as if exchanging wordless confirmations about how grave the matter was. "Yes, of course," said Akihiro readily, while Daisuke echoed his words with a nod.

With that, Kenta narrated to the two of them what had transpired between him, Monika and her mother during their last real date at the _Cocoa Connection. _Somehow, it felt even heavier for Kenta to share everything to them, including his approximation of Mrs. Steinbeck's veiled warning to him and the gist that she wanted to get across. Kenta shared as well the stress that seemed to be plaguing Monika more and more, and how she sought out his company to alleviate it, emphasizing how bad it felt to deny her that solidarity even if it was in accordance to her mother's wishes.

"—haven't really talked to Monika about this, not even at the festival. I just . . . I dunno how she'd react, to be honest. I mean, she might get disappointed and all, with how I lied about what her mom told me or how I kept quiet about it. That's why it's been messing me up pretty bad."

Kenta let out a sigh and turned away for a moment, staring at his downtrodden reflection in the diner's windows. "Can't even text her about it, because I'm worried that her mom might find out, and she'd be in more trouble," he went on dejectedly, turning to face his friends again. "Maybe I can talk to her at school, but I might end up distracting her too much. Or maybe Wonder Boy Takeo will find out and spill more beans to her parents about it, I don't know. It's all just a big mess, and I have no idea what to do about it."

Silence prevailed following his words. All around them, the diner's other patrons and occupants merely carried on with their business, unmindful of the serious discussion that was taking place between the three of them. Daisuke and Akihiro, who had asked or said nothing as he told them of his plight, still bore those looks of concern and sympathy on their faces. Teenage romance might seem like a trivial matter to some, especially when it came to boys of their age, but in their tight-knit group one member's predicament was always worth discussing and addressing, and Kenta was glad that Daisuke and Akihiro seemed to think so.

"That's a bit tough, not gonna lie," said Daisuke after a while. "But I think that your best bet here is to just come clean to Monika about it."

"Yeah, I think that's the only real choice I can make," Kenta acknowledged with difficulty. "To come clean before it gets any worse. It's just that . . . I'm scared of letting her down again, you know? I don't wanna mess things up like I did last time when I got suspended."

"But you might mess things up anyway if you keep hiding this from her," Daisuke pointed out. "Monika's the kind of person who appreciates it if people are honest with her. That's one of the reasons she liked you in the first place, man. She knows you're not the kind of person who'd hide anything from her, including how you feel about her and all. You two need each other right now, especially with the stress she's been going through, like you said."

Kenta sighed. "But what if her mom finds out?"

"Dude, you got this far simply because you chose to listen to Monika instead of giving in to the things people said about you two behind your back," said Akihiro. "No matter what you heard, you stuck with her. Besides, her mom doesn't have to know that you two still see each other after school or whenever. If she needs time to focus for her debate competition, give her that. But don't forget to give her your company when she needs it, too."

"Exactly," Daisuke echoed.

Kenta leaned back against his seat, the conflict in him raging on. Everywhere he looked, he could only see Monika's tired visage, as if at this very moment she was brought low by sadness and loneliness from the growing distance between them, though she had yet to notice it to the point of confronting him about it. Listening to his friends' advice, Kenta found himself agreeing reluctantly with them, even daring to once again defy circumstances in order to prove that yes, he would not—could not—let his doubt and reluctance drown out how he truly felt. But there was one last snag that would send his determination crashing down to earth in a fiery blaze.

"Even if I do change my mind and start trying to be with her again," he said with an air of resigned misery, "it won't change the fact that she's gonna move to Osaka in the end. If her mom said so herself, it means it's a done deal. She'll be gone one way or another, and I won't be able to do anything about it."

A hush descended once again upon their table, which Kenta took as a signal that Daisuke and Akihiro had forgotten about Monika moving out at some point in the future. Granted, even Kenta himself often forgot about it, buried as it was underneath all his other conflicted thoughts. But every time it brushed his mind, it always deflated his hopes before they could even take off.

Daisuke looked defeated now as he drummed his fingers on their table. Akihiro bore the same reaction on his face as well, even as he opened his mouth a few times in an attempt to say something. Kenta sensed more of their persistence and drive to find a way to give him what comfort or help they could; while he was immensely grateful for their determination to help him in whatever way they can find, he did not want to ruin their mood any further with his problems.

"Alright, that's enough of that," he said matter-of-factly, as if he had just finished sharing something trivial and not a personal dilemma. "We should just carry on eating before the food gets stone cold."

Next to him, Daisuke and Akihiro glanced at each other again, obviously struck by his sudden insistence to move on. "Kenta . . ." Daisuke began, but Kenta cut across him with a grin and a wave of his hand.

"I'm fine, my bros," he said affably, looking at both him and Akihiro. "I mean, I'm not exactly at a hundred percent, but just sitting here with you two, eating and talking about stuff, it made me feel a bit better compared to before. At least I managed to vent about my problems, let out a bit of what's been bothering me, so that I won't go crazy carrying it all by myself. Of course, I still dunno what I can do about it, but . . . at least I'll have you guys to go to if I need some advice or a pair of ears again."

Akihiro beseeched him worriedly. "Are you sure?"

"A hundred percent," Kenta insisted. "Listen, if we keep this up, we're just gonna go back and forth like a bunch of dolts. We can discuss this again in the future, alright? And hopefully at a better time, when everything's all okay. Until then, I just wanna thank you two for sticking around and listening to an old pal when he's down in the dumps. I really appreciate it."

"Any time, man," said Daisuke, clapping his shoulder. "That's what bros are for."

"Yeah, and we're glad that you trusted us enough to share stuff with us," added Akihiro.

"Of course I trust you guys—except for Naoki 'cuz he decided to be absent," Kenta joked, eliciting some laughs from them. "But seriously, he did miss out big time, though. If we're gonna do this again, I'm gonna make sure he gets to tag along."

"Hopefully he can," said Daisuke. "Knowing him, he might just bunker down and start studying for the upcoming exams right after this week. Can't blame him, though. I'd rather get things over with as soon as possible."

"Oh, man, no. Not the exams, please. I don't wanna hear about those just yet," Kenta lamented, shaking his head. "I've got enough stuff to worry about, thanks!"

Once again, laughter rang out across their small table, and soon the talk turned to the idea of looking forward to Christmas instead of dwelling on the shade of the approaching exams. As he listened to his friends speak with enthusiasm about what might come at December for them all, Kenta listened on in silence. The warmth from their lighthearted eagerness made him formulate the beginnings of his own plans for the holidays; but his thoughts were soon drowned out as he remembered Monika again, and the fact that unlike them, her ordeal would last until January. Briefly, he imagined everyone else having fun and enjoying the rest of December while she was still training and practicing for January. A small stab of pain shot through his heart as he imagined once again that same burdened look that she had during their last date at the _Cocoa Connection._

_Ah, screw it._

Gritting his teeth, Kenta took out his cellphone from his pocket and sent Monika a text—the first real one he had sent to her in the past few days. Inwardly, he hoped that he had made the right choice, even as Mrs. Steinbeck's words drifted back into his mind as if to dissuade him with the domino effect this could bring. And indeed, his fingers faltered a little as the worries began to surface. Would it distract Monika from her duties at school or her dealings at home? Would it end up with them going out and being discovered by her mother all over again? Would it even mean anything given how Monika would end up in Osaka regardless? Kenta had no way of knowing what would happen from now on, but then again, if one simple and meaningful message meant making Monika feel less stressed and lonely, if it meant brightening up her days the same way it did for him whenever she graced him with her company, then heaven be damned, it would all be worth it.

* * *

_A/N: Time check as of this upload: five in the morning. Totally worth it!_

_Somehow, I'm starting to wonder if my writer's block now follows a set schedule because every time I think I have things under control, it just waltzes in out of nowhere and tap dances on the graves of my ideas. Either way, I'm glad I finally managed to overcome it and turn in this chapter. As you might've seen, instead of having it centered on one of the four pairings in the story, it now follows different perspectives like it did in the festival chapters. I decided that this was a good time to start doing this in order to advance the storytelling even faster, especially with what's coming._

_I hope this turned out to be a good read for you guys. With the new POV format I stated above, I might be able to plan out what happens in the next chapters a bit faster, so hopefully the next one will be written and finished a lot sooner than the last few. See you until then, and as always, take care and stay safe wherever you are!_


	60. Chapter 60 - Come What May

**CHAPTER SIXTY – COME WHAT MAY**

Yuri heaved a sigh as she sat down at the foot of her bed. The ache in her back pressed against her dully as she struggled to take off her uniform's white inner shirt. The walk home from the grocery store had not been easy, but it was a necessity given how much it meant to buy the groceries for her grandmother instead of having them delivered to their house for an extra fee. The request had been an unspoken one, and one that Yuri was more than ready to accept when her grandmother had opened it up at breakfast earlier. Such a setup was not out of place in their household, with Yuri fulfilling what chores she could during the hours she was at home, but there were things that she noticed that began tugging at her thoughts bit by bit.

Her bedroom's cold air caressed her skin startlingly as she removed her undershirt, making her back ache some more. Ponderously, Yuri reached for the bottle of menthol oil that she had readied just for this moment and others like it, pouring a generous amount on her palms and savoring the different kind of coolness it soon gave off as it dried on her skin. Gingerly, she placed the bottle on the floor, reached around her back, and began massaging her skin around her spine, alternating between her hands, careful to avoid the underwire of her bra as she went. Her shoulders came next, harder to reach but worth the effort, and soon her entire back seemed afire with the menthol oil's chill.

She permitted herself to smile a little. Such was the toll one had to endure with having a literal weight on one's chest, she knew, especially for someone who liked to read slightly hunched over her books, unmindful of the toll that poor posture had until it was too late. The strain made physical errands at home and P.E. classes at school even more taxing, physically as well as mentally given how self-conscious it made her feel as well. But the overwhelming sensation of being able to read, rest and sleep at the end of it all made it much more satisfying, just like how the strain was a worthy tradeoff compared to the time she got to spend reading with Naoki. As Yuri finished massaging the menthol oil on her back and shoulders, she put on the yellow long-sleeved shirt she had prepared and changed out of her skirt as well into a pair of black leggings. Her aches would soon recede, she knew, but now that they were taken care of, her mind returned to the matters that have been nudging at her concern.

She glanced over at the hallway, towards the general direction of where her grandmother was downstairs. As the afternoon passed, she had given herself more time to think on things, managing to form an explanation in her head. Every year, winter took its toll on most people, and her grandmother's frail health was always one of the hardest hit. No doubt her joints and muscles grew sorer the colder the weather became, and it fell to Yuri to make sure she was always kept warm with some hot tea and fresh clothing. But the way her grandmother seemed to move even slower and took more time resting in between chores had started to make her worry. Once, she even left it to her to finish cooking dinner for the two of them, and while she said nothing about the reason why and even tried to reassure her with a smile, Yuri noticed a tinge of exhaustion beneath her eyes then. Even so, Yuri knew that she would be able to keep these thoughts in check . . . until the incident at breakfast earlier, that is.

_Maybe Grandmother did just drop her teacup by accident earlier,_ she told herself. Even so, she saw just how much her grandmother's hand had been trembling earlier at breakfast, and how a look of pain had crossed her aged face then. Bent over a little from where she sat, she had let go of her teacup, bringing their breakfast to a startling halt. Yuri had wanted to reach out, to ask if her grandmother was okay, but the pain was gone in an instant, and her grandmother sat up straight again to reassure her with her smiles and words. The mess was cleaned up, and the incident was brushed off as a simple accident, but long after Yuri had arrived at school and sat down in class with Naoki, her assumptions had taken a more serious, sobering turn.

Quietly, she left her room and went back downstairs. The smell of ginger and garlic mingled in the air, enhancing the feeling of rustic warmth around the house. Her grandmother had requested some smoked eel to go with it, sparking Yuri's appetite in further anticipation for the meal. Between all the meals she had cooked with her grandmother in the house, smoked eel was always one of her favorite ingredients in them, whether they sat on a bed of freshly cooked rice or eaten alongside a heartening bowl of okayu_. _The thought of it comforted Yuri for a moment, though her chief concern lingered in her mind as she made her way to the kitchen.

Her grandmother looked the same as ever as she tended to two pots on the nearby stove. She looked around as she heard her enter the kitchen. "Ah, perfect timing, Granddaughter," she said lightly. "I'm just starting to prepare the broth. Can you please tend to the rice over there? You know the drill."

"Yes, Grandmother," said Yuri dutifully, walking over to the nearby sink where the rice sat in a small bowl. As she turned on the sink's faucet and began washing the rice under the cold water, she snuck a glance at her grandmother. Apart from the occasional spasm in her wrinkled hands, nothing seemed out of the ordinary this time. Yuri was secretly glad that the duty of washing rice always fell to her; she did not want to know what kind of painful discomfort the sharp chill of cold tap water would have on her grandmother's hands.

"I forgot to tell you, Grandmother, they didn't have some of the pickled radish you wanted," she said as she sifted through the cold, watery rice with her fingers. "I did get some pickled cabbage, though."

"That will do just fine, child," replied her grandmother. "Smoked fish always goes well with any pickled vegetable. Could you hand me that ladle over there?"

Yuri set aside the rice for a moment and took the aforementioned ladle from a nearby rack. "You also mentioned an eel recipe you wanted to try."

"Ah, yes. I only just remembered it when I was looking through my notebook of old recipes," said her grandmother as she took the ladle from her. "It was a favorite of your father's."

"Really? What was it?"

"_Unagi chazuke._" Her grandmother tittered genially, as if the dish's name brought back delightful memories indeed. "Have you heard of it?"

"'_Chazuke_?' With tea?"

"Yes. You might be surprised how well tea works in a dish like that. Mix up some dashi and _konbucha_, and pour it on the rice, eel and vegetables. Perfect for today's cold season, don't you think?"

Yuri stared on in wonder. "It definitely sounds like an interesting dish," she remarked, walking over to the stove and setting down the washed rice next to it. The steam rising from the broth on the stove cast some comforting warmth at her face, infused with the faint smell of ginger and garlic from earlier.

"It's more than that, especially once you get to try it for yourself," said her grandmother, taking the bowl of rice and emptying its contents in the pot of boiling water next to the broth. "Works best when you make your own dashi and tea, of course. Why I never thought of cooking it for you is beyond me. Then again, it's easier to forget these things when you're as old as I am."

She said the words with a genial air, as old people often did when they recognized how feeble they were getting as the years drew on, but Yuri could easily see the sad truth behind such a statement. Her back still ached from earlier, but that was a far cry from the tremors, joint pains and fatigue her grandmother was enduring at her advanced age at this point. It had been the same case for her grandfather, though she had been too young to understand then the heavy reality that came with watching loved ones slowly give in to old age. She wondered with trepidation for a moment how her grandmother fared while she was at school, and whether there were things that she was not telling her.

"Something troubling you, Granddaughter?"

Yuri looked around to see her grandmother beseeching her closely with her pale purple eyes. She straightened herself up, not wanting to make her anxiety too obvious, and said tentatively, "I was just . . . thinking of a few things, Grandmother. T-That's all."

The knowing gleam in her grandmother's eyes told her just how much she believed her answer. "I've known you ever since you were a baby, Granddaughter," she said warmly. "I know when you've got something on your mind. You're still thinking about earlier, is that it?"

Startled at her grandmother's accurate guess, Yuri grasped for the right words to say in return, wondering if such clairvoyant insight was something all grandparents had. Her grandmother, on the other hand, forestalled her as she stirred the rice on the stove. "I understand what you might be thinking of right now, about how old I'm getting and all," she told her. "Well, you can hide the number all you want, but you'll never be able to hide the white hair and wrinkles and liver spots, or the fact that sweeping the yard and doing the laundry take up twice the time now. That's what I always tell my friends. Best to just come to terms with them while you can. You'll only age faster if you worry about them too much, and then you'll _really_ start forgetting things."

She laughed at that, shaking her head as she covered the rice with a lid. Yuri hung back for a moment, marveling at her grandmother's carefree approach to the thought of growing older and grayer. She remembered her grandfather and wondered if he had come to terms with it the same way her grandmother was doing now.

"Even at your age, you still remember a great deal, Grandmother. And you're still capable of doing just as many things as well." Even as she said her words in an earnest tone, Yuri had to wonder whether she uttered them to reassure her grandmother or herself.

Her grandmother laughed again. "Now I remember your father even more after you said that. Always worried about my age, about what I may be feeling, and all that. I say . . . come what may. It'll come along in the end, after all. What really matters is what happens along the way and what you choose to make of it. That's what life has always been about."

She smiled at Yuri, who could not help but smile back nervously. The unspoken sentiment beneath her words hung between them now. _She knows as much as I think. _But though it did little to put her thoughts at ease, her grandmother's warmth was always comforting, and it would simply not do to foist her worries upon her and damper her spirit in the process.

"Now, that's enough of that," her grandmother went on, tapping at the countertop with her ladle. "There'll be plenty of time for talk once we've got this meal taken care of. If you will, Granddaughter, you can start preparing the tea now."

"Oh, yes, o-of course!" Yuri inclined her head and went back to her post. At the back of her mind, her worries scratched at her like another scuttering raccoon, but for as long as there were still years and dinnertimes to be had with her grandmother, it felt as if all would be well.

* * *

Lunchtime at school became a quiet affair the following day, as Naoki went off to attend a small meeting with his groupmates for their Social Studies presentation. Yuri made her way to their customary spot at the school's rooftop alone, _The Portrait of Markov _clutched to her chest as always. This time, however, their reading session for the day was still up for debate; though she and Naoki were close to finishing the book once and for all, they had forestalled their reading of the final chapters in favor of discussing a somber development.

Even as she was still engrossed in her own worries about her grandmother, Yuri had been caught off guard as Naoki confided in her earlier the passing of his mother's friend. _Tsuru Kobayashi. That was her name, _she recalled as she reached the remembered the day she and Naoki had come to the hospital together on different errands, and what he had shared to her about his mother's friend and her suicide attempt. Though the topic had been swept aside as she and Naoki discussed her own self-harm issues, Yuri recalled the shock she had felt when she had first heard about Tsuru Kobayashi from him. But that was nothing compared to the jolt she felt when Naoki told her earlier that morning about what had transpired later on that sad day, when the Kobayashi family decided to pull the plug on Tsuru's life support. She did not know Tsuru personally, that much was true, but Yuri was deeply saddened by the news nonetheless. Apart from knowing that she was a family friend of the Nakajimas, Yuri knew that one could not help but sympathize with someone who had gone through such an ordeal. Naoki had ended his story recounting to her how he had accompanied his mother to Tsuru's funeral two days past, his recollections making her remember her grandfather's funeral more than a decade ago.

Yuri was still deep in thought when a familiar glimpse of bright pink drifted by the corner of her eye. She looked around to see Natsuki huddled in her usual corner on the rooftop, eating idly from the bento box next to her as she focused on a manga book. Instinctively, Yuri stopped in her tracks, as if the sight of a familiar face was a welcome source of respite from the heavy nature of her thoughts. She looked around for a moment, wondering if Daisuke would show up at any moment to accompany her. When she failed to see him anywhere, she walked over to Natsuki.

"H-Hello," she called out.

Natsuki looked up from her manga, her eyebrows rising in surprise when she saw that it was her. Yuri noticed that she was no longer wearing a face mask, and the bruise at the corner of her right eye had completely healed up.

Natsuki swallowed her mouthful of food and nodded back at her in greeting. "Alone again, huh?" she asked her.

"I'm afraid so," said Yuri with a nervous smile. "How about you?"

Natsuki shook her head. "Daisuke went down to get some drinks."

"Oh, I see. . ." Yuri glanced around the rooftop again briefly. "Okay, I'll j-just, um . . ."

"You can hang out with us if you want."

The words were out from Natsuki's lips before Yuri could even formulate her reply properly. Natsuki looked at her rather expectantly, as if waiting for her immediate answer. Yuri fidgeted for a moment with her copy of _Markov_, feeling rather ill at ease. Then again, Naoki wouldn't be back from his meeting for a little while longer, she knew, and having company seemed better than trying to read alone with thoughts of her grandmother and Tsuru Kobayashi flitting in and out of her brain.

"I . . . Well . . . Would that b-be fine with you and Daisuke?" she asked.

Natsuki nodded. "I'm sure Daisuke's cool with it. Are you?"

"Y-Yes," replied Yuri, smiling again. "Thank you."

"No prob." With that, Natsuki turned back to her manga and continued eating. Yuri walked over nervously and sat down on a spot away from her, making sure to leave some space for Daisuke when he returned. She opened her copy of _Markov_, thumbed a page at random and bunkered down to read. It did not take long, however, before Yuri found it to be a futile task. The figurative raccoon from last night had returned, scampering through her thoughts, interrupting her attempts to read. Try as she might, the elusive critter was difficult to curb on the spot, bringing with it the sounds of a teacup shattering on the floor and a life support system shutting down for good.

She looked up to see Natsuki observing her rather closely. The pink-haired girl drew back for a moment, as if she had been caught off guard with a splash of cold water to the face. Awkwardly, she retreated to her own manga book and resumed eating, chewing her food with renewed intensity as if nothing happened. Even so, Yuri noticed that she seemed to be glancing at her still from out of the corners of her vivid pink eyes.

"I-Is something wrong?" Yuri asked her.

Natsuki stiffened where she sat, slowing down her chewing as she closed her manga book. Swallowing her mouthful of food, she looked fully upon her now, as if she didn't want to seem rude enough to keep hiding her obvious stares.

"I was just wondering if . . . if we could talk about stuff, that's all," Natsuki admitted after a brief moment of silence. "It was starting to get too quiet."

"Oh." Yuri closed her own book and placed it on her lap, sitting up straighter as well. "That's okay with me. I was unable to focus on my reading anyway."

"Rough day?" asked Natsuki.

"Not r-really," said Yuri. "Just a few worries, that's all."

Nodding, Natsuki looked around the rooftop for a moment, watching the other students eating lunch and talking to one another. Yuri mimicked her gaze in silence, waiting with a bit apprehension for her to inquire about what exactly her worries were in an effort to keep their conversation going, but the question never came. Instead, Natsuki's next statement surprised her all over again.

"I wrote a poem last week."

She attempted to smile as Yuri looked around in astonishment at her, though she could not quite hide the tenseness that was gripping her youthful features. Yuri remembered then what the two of them had talked about at the festival, along with her on-the-spot haiku and Natsuki's admitted interest in writing poetry. Her brain seemed to cling to the thought instantly, as if seeking reprieve involuntarily from the bleaker and more portentous thoughts she had.

"I told you I'd try it out eventually," Natsuki went on. "It wasn't as easy as people think it is, and definitely not as easy as you made it seem back at the festival."

"Yes, it d-does have its tricky parts, right?" Yuri affirmed, grateful that she found some words to say in return even as her surprise lingered. "Hopefully, you did well."

Natsuki let out a short laugh at that. "As well as you did? I don't know if I can say that. I mean, I did write . . . _something _like a poem, at least. But since I'm the only one who's ever gotten to read it, I don't think I can say for sure if it turned out good, or if it's just plain garbage."

Yuri felt bewildered by her sudden, harsh self-criticism. "I don't think it should be dismissed as 'garbage' right off the bat, though," she told Natsuki. "I mean, h-how can you say so if no one else has read it yet?"

"So I have to wait for someone else to say it's garbage?" asked Natsuki in that characteristically blunt manner of hers.

"Ah, n-not really!" said Yuri, fearing that she might be saying things the wrong way. "It's just that . . . what we might think is inadequate for us may turn out to be excellent for others. J-Just because we think that our work falls short of a certain standard doesn't mean it's already something equal to garbage, right?"

Natsuki grimaced. "Well, that'd be easy for you to say. You're already good at it."

"But I wasn't good at it b-before," Yuri countered. "These kinds of things always take practice. The first attempt d-doesn't always come out the way it should. Is it subpar? Perhaps. Is it outright garbage? I don't think so."

"Subpar but _not _garbage?" Natsuki frowned. "How the heck does that work?"

"Just because something fails to reach a certain standard that we set to it doesn't mean it's already considered akin to trash," said Yuri earnestly. "As long as you took the time and effort to make it, it's worth something, especially if it's your first step towards a new field you wish to try out."

Natsuki stared at her for a moment, digesting her words in silence, as if she was looking for something to argue against. Evidently, however, she found nothing of the sort as she let out a sigh. "I guess you're right about that," she muttered. "And you'd think I would know that better by now after all my experiences in baking. . ."

Yuri smiled. "It happens with everyone, I suppose. N-Now then, did you want to share the poem to me o-or . . . ?"

At that, Natsuki tensed up again, sitting up ramrod straight as she braced her hands together. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying and failing to utter a reply, her face slowly reddening. Yuri watched her, curiously at first, and then with growing trepidation as she realized that she may have inadvertently put her on the spot.

"I'm sorry, it might've been too much for me to ask," she said, hoping it would Natsuki's obvious discomfiture. "I just assumed that, um . . . p-perhaps you had considered showing your work t-to someone, that's all."

"No, it's fine," Natsuki said, waving her hand dismissively. "T-To be honest with you, I . . . I did think about doing that. For a while, I considered showing it to Daisuke, but . . ."

When she fell silent again, Yuri leaned forward, feeling both curious and concerned. "But . . . ?"

Natsuki let out another sigh. "Well, I figured that _you _would be a better choice to read it first."

Yuri found herself at a loss for words as she gazed upon Natsuki. The admission seemed more profound than she had wanted to believe, and she felt her curiosity blotting out her anxiety, prompting her to scoot a little closer to Natsuki.

"M-May I ask why?" she asked reluctantly.

Natsuki looked at her with a frown. "Why? You're a really good writer, that's why!" she replied, as if it was that obvious of an answer. "If I'm gonna have someone critique my poem, I'd rather have it done by s-someone who knows a lot about this kind of thing. You actually write poems as a hobby, so you know this kind of stuff more than anyone I know right now. I can tell when I hear you talk about it."

"But . . . w-what about Daisuke?" Yuri asked her, feeling her heartbeat rising with dread. "Perhaps he knows a few things about poetry as well, given how he's also an avid reader like you."

Natsuki bit her lip. "W-Well, I'm not trying to imply that Daisuke's a dunce or anything, of course," she replied nervously. "It's just that . . . I think you'd be able to give a more honest take on this. I trust Daisuke, but I don't want him to say it's good even if it's not, just to make me feel better about it. At least with you, I'll be able to have a more neutral opinion . . . right?"

Yuri could only nod in silence for a moment, feeling apprehensive at the thought of being chosen like this. It was a prospect that seemed even more difficult to address compared to the time she had shared her poem and bared her feelings to Naoki. Natsuki, unmindful of her thoughts, stared at her with utter seriousness and determination as she waited for her response. As the seconds ticked by, Yuri knew that her time to make a decision was running out, and a bit of hope tugged at her as she knew that Natsuki may eventually call the offer off if she took too long. But as much as Yuri wanted to wait for such a thing to happen, and as much as she wanted tell Natsuki to find someone better to critique her poem, a part of her felt flattered and even touched at how much Natsuki seemed to trust her on this. And the fact that she had talked to her first about the prospect told Yuri a lot, just like the openness she had shown to her at the festival.

Her resolve fighting against her anxiety, she said, "Okay, I'll d-do it."

From the way Natsuki raised her eyebrows now in surprise, Yuri wondered if she had been expecting her to answer in the negative from the get-go. Whatever the case was, though, the die had been cast, and she watched as Natsuki reached towards the manga book she had been reading. Opening it on a certain page, she pulled out a small sheet of pink stationery paper.

"I've been keeping it here ever since I finished writing it," Natsuki explained to her. "Just thought that it'd be a safe place to keep it, and if I ended up s-showing it to you, at least it'd be easily at hand."

"I see," said Yuri, observing the lines on the paper from where she sat and noticing how they seemed shorter than most poetry stanzas. Natsuki scooted over and handed the paper to her now. She drew back with catlike speed as soon as Yuri took it from her hand and turned away. Taking that as a sign that she should begin reading, Yuri glanced down upon the sheet, hoping inwardly that she would not disappoint with her critique.

"_Monkeys can climb_

_Crickets can leap_

_Horses can race_

_Owls can seek_

_Cheetahs can run_

_Eagles can fly_

_People can try_

_But that's about it._"

Given the shortness of the poem in general, Yuri found herself going back and forth with it in no time, feeling the words cross her lips, analyzing them in the same way that she would analyze any other poem that crossed her sight. Even so, it was an odd piece in general, very different from the poems she had read and written before. The complete lack of nuanced words and colored thoughts made her wonder what she should actually be looking for. So far, the only part of the poem that invoked the most thought was its abrupt ending. Yuri focused her eyes upon it more than anything else, trying to imagine what—

"A-Are you done yet?"

Yuri blinked, feeling utterly startled as Natsuki's voice brought her back down to earth in an instant. "Y-Yes!" she replied hastily, setting the poem down and glancing over at Natsuki's expectant expression. "I'm sorry. I think I spent t-too much time reading there. . ."

Natsuki sighed. "So it's that bad, huh?"

"Ah, not at all!" Yuri exclaimed, recoiling almost immediately as she realized that she had raised her voice somewhat. Thankfully, none of the other students seemed to notice, though Natsuki looked startled and even confused by her discomfiture. _She's the one being critiqued, and yet I'm the one panicking. _Putting her brakes on full blast, Yuri paused for a moment, making sure that none of her next words would be influenced by her growing trepidation. "I just need to word my response p-properly, if you don't mind."

"Oh, yeah, s-sure thing," said Natsuki.

Smiling with nervous gratitude, Yuri looked away for a moment, inhaling and exhaling quietly in an effort to nail down her thoughts and ease her heartbeat a little. Again, she perused the poem, this time taking on a more analytical air like she was critiquing an artist's work, nothing more, nothing less.

"So this is your first time writing a poem, y-yes?" she asked Natsuki for starters.

"Yeah, in the official sense, I guess," replied Natsuki. "Why?"

Yuri nodded. "It's just that there are specific writing habits that are usually typical of new writers," she explained, secretly glad that her voice was starting to grow steadier. "Having been through that myself, I kind of learned to pick up on them, and one of the most noticeable things I recognize in new writers is how they try to make their style very deliberate. They try to pick a writing style different from the topic matter, and they form-fit the two together. The end result is that both the style and the expressiveness are weakened.

"But of course, anyone could hardly be blamed for something like that. There are so many skills that go into writing even a simple poem—not just finding and building them, but also getting them to work together is probably the most challenging part. It might take you some time, but it all comes with constant practice, and learning by example, and trying out new things too."

As she listened to her feedback, Natsuki eyed her own poem with a perplexed look. "How can you say that I wrote my poem differently from the topic I used, though?" she asked Yuri. "I mean, I think I managed to drive the point across. . ."

"I see. . . Um, would you mind explaining what you were trying to go for?" asked Yuri, sensing that she should have asked this first.

"W-Well . . ." Natsuki sat up straighter as she tried to piece together her words. "The thing is that I wanted to add a bit of wordplay into this poem by giving it a rhyme scheme, a-and then you've got the syllables going and all for the flow. But at the end, I made it fall flat on purpose to drive the meaning home."

"Ah, I understand," said Yuri. "Wordplay and nuances like that does make for some extra flavor in a poem, but it wouldn't hurt to add more words to help with that. Sometimes, the wordplay doesn't always come in the form of cheekiness or double entendres, but in the smooth flow of words that have been masterfully crafted and pieced together."

Natsuki grimaced. "Personally, I don't see it that way. Short, simple words can work just as well as those fancy ones. If the message comes across regardless, it doesn't matter if you make it sound fancy or not. Why not just keep it simple, right?"

Again, Yuri nodded as she continued to listen. Though she disagreed privately with Natsuki's stance about using only simple words to convey a plethora of meanings in one's poems, she did not want to ruin her first poem-making experience by starting a full-fledged debate on the dos and don'ts of poetry. Instead, she decided to shift gears.

"T-Then how about your theme?" she asked Natsuki now with a smile. "I haven't quite interpreted it yet, since I went for its composition first. If you don't mind, I'd like to hear about the message you put into it, and then we can compare ideas."

"Oh, right. Well, it's about . . ." Natsuki looked away for a moment, and Yuri noticed how her vividly pink eyes seemed to look even sadder now.

"I-It's about giving up."

Yuri drew back, feeling completely startled. "Giving up . . . ?" she repeated, wondering what exactly Natsuki was trying to convey.

"Yeah," Natsuki intoned, her piercingly pink eyes taking on a somber look indeed. "I wanted to go with something that hit a little close to home, y'know? But writing about manga or baking didn't quite cut it, so I decided to dig a little deeper."

"I see. . ." Yuri still felt unsure of what to say. "W-What is its context of 'giving up,' then?"

Natsuki cast her gaze downwards for a moment, her brow furrowed in somber thought. "Do you know that feeling where you always see how people are doing a lot better than you in anything? I mean, whether it's in school or outside, whether it concerns an activity or sport or a competition. You see all these people excelling in these things, while you're just . . . there. You're doing what you can, you're trying to give it your best shot, and yet you never really get as far and high as those people do."

Yuri felt like she was starting to understand. "Is that how you feel?"

Sighing, Natsuki looked up, her gaze hinting at untold burdens. "I've had my moments. Like for example, when I was writing this poem officially for the first time, I wanted it to be good. I wanted it to sound like how an actual poet would make it. But every time I tried to put in a line that I thought felt inspired and good, it'd just fall apart, and I'll just end up scratching the line out and replacing it with something else. That'd just keep happening over and over. In the end, I never got anywhere. It was just so frustrating, that feeling that I'd never be good enough to do this, that I'd never turn in something that fits my standards. And it made me remember my other experiences, too—not quite reaching the grade I wanted for an exam, not doing enough to help my teammates win in P.E., that kind of stuff. All the while, you see others being happy that they got good grades, or winners celebrating that their hard work won them a game, while you're just sitting there wondering if it was even worth it to try. Remembering all this stuff, I figured that it'd be worthwhile to put it in poem form, even with how much it bummed me out. At least, if it failed and ended up like garbage, it would have made a perfect example to go with my poem's message, right?"

Yuri nodded, her words failing her at every turn. As the highly personal nature of the poem slowly revealed itself to her through Natsuki's words, she found herself wondering if she could even add anything or make a remark without seeming intrusive or careless.

"But then . . . you said some stuff earlier that changed my mind a bit," Natsuki suddenly continued. Yuri looked around in surprise and saw that her pink gaze was resting upon her with an air of appreciation.

"W-What was it that I said?" Yuri asked her.

"That just because something doesn't meet the standard we set, it doesn't mean that it's garbage," Natsuki replied. "I-It kinda serves as the opposite of what my poem conveyed, right? That there _is _a point in trying, that in spite of falling short of something for the nth time, it doesn't take away from the attempt itself, and the effort that you put in it. It made me realize other things, too. L-Like for example, when I first started baking, my first batch of cupcakes just all sank in on themselves. As mad as I was at myself for failing, I wanted to do better, to make the entire effort worth it, and I guess I used that thought unconsciously to keep trying until I finally got it right. If I just gave up from the start just because things didn't go my way, like I almost did when I wrote that poem, I wouldn't have learned how to bake."

She smiled, and Yuri could not help but feel warmed by her expression. "The festival would have been a little less excellent if you weren't there to bake cupcakes for it," she found herself saying to her.

Natsuki blushed. "You really think my cupcakes were all that?"

"O-Of course!" Yuri managed to smile back now. "And I look forward to the next time that you make some more again, f-for all of us."

Natsuki shrugged. "Some of my classmates want me to try for our Christmas break party after the exams. You think it'll be worth a shot?"

"It still depends on you," Yuri told her. "B-But if you do try it, I'm sure it will be as good as it was at the festival, and y-your classmates would love it."

Natsuki's face turned red again at that. "Alright, fine. I'll j-just tell them if I'll go with it."

"Very well." Yuri glanced down at her poem for a moment before handing it back to her. "Here. I hope you keep practicing on your poetry as well. Y-You might need to try out other styles first, but once you do, I'm sure your writing will improve even further."

Natsuki nodded, sighing as she took back her poem from her. "Maybe. But I think I should just focus on perfecting what I already have. I don't want to compromise too much of it just to _sound _good."

Yuri felt a little self-conscious at her indirect jab, but knew better than to argue against it. Natsuki looked at her poem again, her eyes filled with meaning. "Either way . . . I think I'm gonna keep this poem even closer," she said. "Stick it on my locker door, that kind of thing, so that if I ever feel like giving up, I'll just take a look at it and remember."

"That's good," said Yuri.

After she had tucked the poem safely back within the pages of her manga book, Natsuki turned to her again. "How about you? When are you gonna write your next poem?" she asked her rather cheekily.

"Ah, I don't know q-quite yet," said Yuri with a nervous laugh. "There are a few things that I've b-been thinking about, and . . . I don't know if I'd be able to focus on any new poetry at the moment."

"Oh, okay. I was thinking that . . . well, it'd be nice if we could . . ."

As Natsuki's voice trailed off, Yuri leaned a bit closer to her. "Yes?" she asked curiously.

Natsuki shrugged, though it did little to dispel the slight discomfiture her face bore. "I mean, it'd be nice if we could, you know . . . share poems again or something. . ." she finished quietly. "B-But it's not gonna be like some sort of competition on who does better, okay?" she added posthaste in a jumpy tone. "It's just, well, a fun thing we could do, since this was pretty fun in spite of . . . of everything. . ."

As she listened to Natsuki mumble and mutter and try to admit that she had fun in a roundabout manner, Yuri could immediately see through her façade, and she felt warmed by the idea that she was not the only one who could get flustered when it came to coming out of her shell and interacting with people.

"That w-would be just fine with me, Natsuki," she told her sincerely.

"Oh." Natsuki looked put out for a moment, as if she was not expecting such a response from her. Nevertheless, she managed to give her a small grin. "Okay, then. That's . . . That's great."

Yuri smiled back. Though she knew that her own worries could still be lurking around the corner, a growing bond with people like Natsuki seemed to make everything feel just fine. _Come what may, _her grandmother had told her, and even for just a single day, Yuri felt like she could readily stand by such a declaration.

* * *

_A/N: Greetings, everyone! I had planned on finishing this chapter a week sooner since I had most of it nailed down already, but a sudden turn of events altered my schedule and future schedules to come; a friend had approached me to help on doing some extensive developmental editing and copyediting work on a book for an acquaintance who wishes to have his work published. Long story short, I got the job and am now editing said book weekly._

_This will be quite a lengthy project, and I don't know how much it'll affect my work for future chapters. As such, I apologize in advance if there are more lengthy delays in the future, since I'll basically be juggling between editing for this project and continuing my fic. R__est assured, however, that I will continue to write as much as I can during my free time and strive to keep delivering new chapters for you guys._

_That's all for now. Stay safe, my friends, and see you in the next upload!_


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